


Ichigo's Cold

by HadenXCharm



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra cameos, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Mundane, Obligatory sick-fic, Pining, Sickfic, Unrequited Love, crazy cats, heavily based on the web-comic 一護の風邪, renji-centric, sweetness 100x
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9822488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadenXCharm/pseuds/HadenXCharm
Summary: Renji comes to visit for the week just in time for Ichigo to come down with a fever. Having long since pledged to keep his feelings to himself, Renji is caught between a rock and a hard place when he's tasked with taking care of the one he loves. He does his best to look after Ichigo with the loyalty of a friend, but some fevers don't go away...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I try not to beg for reviews, but please, a small bit of encouragement and appreciation gives me so much determination so keep producing work. Thank you for your viewership and support.

_. . ._

Renji rested his head on the back of his seat and looked out the window. Checking his phone again for the time, he turned the volume of his music up a little more and folded his arms over his chest, as if trapping his hands in his armpits would keep him from checking the time again in a few minutes.

‘ _Only half an hour left now.’_

He’d been on the train long enough that he should’ve been lulled to sleep by now with its rhythmic humming, but with legs as long as his, he felt rather cramped in his chair – not to mention he was restless with anticipation.

He and Rukia had this tradition of traveling out to see Ichigo every time there was a scheduled school break. Of course, he wasn’t in college anymore, but Ichigo was. Ever since he’d gone off to school in a different prefecture, they all didn’t see each other as often anymore. It’s been almost two years now of seeing each other only once every few months. He knew Rukia, Orihime, Chad, and all the rest missed Ichigo too – hell, even Ishida did – but sometimes he felt like they hadn’t taken it as hard as he had. Renji got on with his life and everything, but to be honest, he missed Ichigo terribly from day to day, even after this long.

Anyway, it was that time of year again, and Renji had come out to visit Ichigo for the week. He was actually a little nervous about it. The thing is, whenever Ichigo couldn’t come home himself over break, usually he and Rukia would go out to visit him together. This time though, Rukia had gone out of the country with her brother – read: Renji’s boss – for some business meeting. Renji's going to be alone with Ichigo all week.

Ichigo was expecting him, so he’d likely be waiting at the station when he arrived. Renji clenched his eyes shut and half-dreaded the coming week. It wasn’t that he thought things would be awkward just the two of them – whenever they met they always fell back into the natural swing of their friendship. It wasn’t that he doubted his own resolve either. It’s just that the distance and the time apart hasn’t been enough to cool him off, and that worried him.

Renji sighed and opened his eyes again.

 

_‘Twenty-six minutes…’_

 

. . .

 

He’d taken the early train, so when he finally arrived at his stop, it was only about three in the afternoon even after such a long ride. After swinging his bag onto his shoulder and pulling his headset down around his neck, Renji got out onto the platform and wandered into the station, eyes scanning eagerly for a familiar and sorely missed flash of bright hair.

It didn’t take him long to find Ichigo, since he was waiting near Renji's platform on a bench. Ichigo seemed to have seen him first, because he stood up as he approached, hands in his pockets and that same old half-smile on his face. Renji perked up at the sight of him.

He didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see anything than Ichigo standing there in his blue long-sleeve and joggers, as handsome and wonderful as ever. If he hadn't known it before, he knew then that there was no hope for him. If it was still this bad after this long, there really was no hope whatsoever.

 “Hey!” he called, speeding up towards him with a grin. Ichigo raised a hand and let the tired quirk of his lip stretch a bit more. Renji accepted his fate and smiled like a loon.

“Hey dude,” Ichigo greeted, stepping forward for a quick embrace, putting one arm around Renji and slapping his back. Renji ruffled his hair, and Ichigo snorted, pulling back and smoothing it out.

“Ready ta’ hang out?”

Ichigo huffed a laugh, ducking his head and letting his hands go back into his pockets. “Totally. Did you eat already, or…?”

“Ahh, I could eat.”

“Cool.”

Renji followed as Ichigo turned and led them off to roam the area. It was mostly on him to initiate conversation, since as Ichigo had matured, he’d mellowed out even more and talked even less – Renji had to rile him up a bit to bring out his old hothead self, which didn’t take long. They had a way of bringing out the best in each other like that - y'know, by picking at each other endlessly.

After hanging around into the night, they called a late-running cab service and finally went back to Ichigo’s apartment. By that point Ichigo was chatting with him easily and the feeling of dread that had earlier plagued Renji had dissipated.

When they made it up to Ichigo’s place, he unlocked the door to let Renji in so he could finally set his stuff down. He'd been carrying his bag around with him all night, not that it had been very cumbersome.

It wasn’t until he came in and looked around that he realized he hadn’t been in Ichigo’s house in ages. In fact, this wasn’t even the same apartment as last time. The last few times Ichigo had had a break, he’d come home instead of having them come down to visit. He must have changed residence since the last time Renji had come over.

Renji took his shoes off and lined them up by the wall next to the door, watching as Ichigo passed him easily into the dark. As he flicked the light on in the kitchen, he sniffed and blinked blearily, seeming tired.

Renji smirked, looking around Ichigo’s front room, immediately noticing that it was just as clean and organized as Ichigo’s bedroom had been years ago back at the clinic. There was nothing here other than the furniture, any personal items that would’ve been lying around in a normal home having apparently been stowed away.

“Sleep wherever you want tonight,” Ichigo hummed absently, checking his cupboards to assess his dishware, taking out a glass or two to inspect.

Renji threw his bag on the couch and then himself after it, pleased when it bounced beneath him comfortably. He folded his arms behind his head. “Sweet.”

“Dude, c’mon. Get up and help.”

Even though it was already late, they’d planned to stay up and hang out, drink some beers and eat junk food and watch the weird late-night TV shows. Renji made himself comfortable, considering the merits of doing what Ichigo said. “What should I do?”

“Uh, I guess you can go get the snacks.”

Renji picked his head up and watched Ichigo move around in the pale light of the kitchen, the fluffy bits of his hair on the top glowing yellow like they did in the sun. “You don’t have anything here? Ichigo, what the hell, you knew I was coming.”

“Whatever, maybe I forgot,” Ichigo shot back, and when Renji complained more for no other reason than to be a jerk, he groaned, “Ugh, quit it. At least now you can pick out what you want.”

Renji considered this for a second and then leapt up. “Spot me a thousand.” When Ichigo didn’t turn around, seeming not to have heard him, instead looking through his freezer with one fist on his hip, Renji repeated again, “Dude, split it.”

Ichigo brushed him off. “Okay, okay, just gimme’ a-” He moved back away from the freezer and sneezed, drawing his attention. He sniffed again and swiped at his nose, and Renji desperately tried not to balk at the realization that nothing had changed - nothing _at all_ had changed. Everything Ichigo did was still the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“Think I’m coming down with something.”

Renji smirked widely then to cover his tracks. “I thought only idiots got colds in the summer,” he teased, then frowned and hummed in confusion, “or wait… is it, ‘idiots don’t get colds?’”

Predictably, Ichigo shot him a glare and opened his mouth to retort, but was distracted by a heavy thump. Renji blinked as a large cat bounded down the hall and up to Ichigo’s feet. Ichigo huffed and shook his head, then leaned down to greet it and scratch its ear.

“Whatever, it’ll clear up,” Ichigo dismissed, pulling his wallet out to toss a bill on the counter for him. He sniffed again and turned back to the freezer unconcernedly and waved a hand a bit.

“Go, I’ll make some coconut ice.”

“Yes!” Renji crowed, snatched up the bill, and got his jacket on to head out for their party supplies.


	2. Chapter 2

Renji wandered from aisle to aisle in the conbini and brought back a case of beer, those sweet rolls they both like with a couple chocolate-filled kinds especially for Ichigo, and a few bags of chips and candy.

When he got back, he returned the change to Ichigo and set the bags on the counter, then plopped on the floor in front of the TV when Ichigo told him he could relax while he got the food ready, since he’s a guest – ‘But just this once, lazy ass.’

He laughed a bit and glanced up, watching as Ichigo looked through the snacks and took them out of the shopping bags, laying them out with the other food he’d taken out of the fridge to prepare. “Hey, good picks,” Ichigo noted as he set the sweet buns on a plate, “these are-” He paused, pulling back a bit and letting his arm rise to his face, “ahh-”

He turned and bent towards the floor a bit, sneezing, then again. He straightened and held his elbow over his face cautiously, wary of another, but when it didn’t come, he rolled his sleeves up and washed his hands. “I like the chocolate ones,” he finished.

‘ _I know_ ,’ thought Renji, pleased that he’d noticed. He rubbed his mouth to try and get the smile off, and shrugged, even though Ichigo was turned the other way. “Ahh, y’know…”

Renji leaned back on his hands and watched as Ichigo made the food and put the snacks into bowls. Having set the case of beer on the floor by him, Renji cracked one open and sipped it, smiling as Ichigo cut up some pieces of fruit – he even cut the grapes in half, shit, he’s so cute.

“So, how long have you been living here? I don’t remember this place,” he began, watching over his beer bottle as Ichigo stood at the counter in the dim light with his glowing yellow hair and his look of calm concentration. Renji curled his toes up.

‘ _Ah, he’s cute,’_ he thought. ‘ _He’s really cute.’_

“I think about four or five months now?” Ichigo replied, glancing up once or twice to him as he wiped his knife clean on a towel. “I like it, it’s close to the school. The rent’s really good too,” he chirped, his voice warming into something a bit more cheerful than his usual flat mellow tone. He usually got like that after a day or two of visiting with him and Rukia - sometimes Renji wondered if Ichigo was lonely, and only remembered it once they were there.

He wondered, because that's how it was for him.

“That’s good,” Renji hummed back, unable to take his eyes off him for a moment. Truly, he forgot how much he missed Ichigo. He didn't even want to stop looking at him.

“Yeah, plus the owner lets me keep-” Ichigo set his knife down and turned slightly, lifting his wrist to his face, “Ahh,” he inhaled unsteadily, then sneezed, “ahh-ksh!”

He tried to finish what he’d meant to say, but had to stop to sneeze again, then again. Renji watched with a kind of horror, counting out the sneezes. ‘ _One, two… three… Oh shit…’_ He wasn’t one to blush, but at the realization, he felt his face heat up.

“Hahh,” Ichigo gasped, sniffing when the sneezing abated.

“Woah, maybe you should go to bed,” Renji suggested, after clearing his throat.

“No, it’s fine,” Ichigo resisted, scrubbing his hands again at the sink. Renji frowned and tried not to dwell on the weird coincidence that the rumored triple-sneeze had indeed happened after he’d been thinking on his feelings for Ichigo. He didn't believe in that kind of stuff, but still, it was weird that he'd just been thinking of how cute Ichigo was, and then...

“Well, okay…”

Renji settled on a show, and Ichigo finished plating their snacks, bringing them over to the floor. They sat in front of the couch and munched for a while, sometimes laughing as they talked back and forth and watched a weird variety show. Ichigo glanced down as his cat came to sniff his plate where it lay on the ground, and didn’t move it away.

They hung out for about half an hour or so, and during that time, Ichigo began sneezing and coughing more and more. Although he was having fun and didn’t want their night together to end, Renji eventually noted uneasily, “You don’t look so good…”

“Ah,” Ichigo admitted, sniffing, “it’s getting worse.” He waved a hand then as Renji frowned in concern. “But it’s fine, we don’t have to stop,” he insisted.

“No really, _it is fine_ ,” Renji turned it around, giving Ichigo a stern look. “So go to bed, okay?”

Ichigo frowned back. “But then you’ll be-” As if to defeat his own protests, he cut off in a particularly taxing sneeze, leaving him breathless afterwards.

“That’s why I said go to sleep!”

Shaking his head, Ichigo stubbornly denied it. “We were supposed ta’ hang out,” he protested, and was again silenced as he sneezed twice in a row. “I-” he tried, to no avail, “Ah-ksh! Ehh-ksht!”

‘ _Damn, I think he really is sick.’_

Ichigo, finally able to breathe for a moment, sagged in exhaustion. Taking his chance to talk over him when he couldn’t argue, Renji noted, “That’s four in a row now.” Crossing his arms, he insisted, “You have a cold. Accept it.”

“I d-” Ichigo sneezed again, loudly, both elbows up to cover his face.

“Ichigo, go to bed.”

Resting his arms on his knees, Ichigo set his head there for a moment, breathing deeply. After a few moments of silence, he mumbled, “I think I do wanna’ lie down,” as if hesitant to agree with Renji over anything, but feeling shitty enough that he would make an exception just this once.

“Gowan’,” Renji urged, “I’ll clean this stuff up.”

Ichigo stood uncertainly, but said, “Okay.” He watched Renji gather their plates for a second, and then after a pointed look from Renji to tell him to get going, he retreated. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it.”


	3. Chapter 3

Renji could hear Ichigo screwing around in the hallway, and after poking his head down there, saw that he was rifling through his linen closet. Ichigo sniffed and told him he’d put a futon out for him and that he could unpack whenever he wanted.

He pulled out a rolled up bedmat, then promptly dropped it on the floor as he began coughing. Renji wondered if Ichigo had gotten worse over the course of the night or if he’d been like this all along and he'd just been too blind to notice. In any case, he definitely noticed now, Ichigo was sick as a dog. His poor sweet face was pale and clammy, and his body racked and shuddered as he coughed.

“Lay down or I’ll beat you up!” Renji hollered in alarm, and glared at Ichigo until he was sure that he really was going to go that time.

He went around the kitchen island towards the sink, setting the dishes inside it, and then put away all the salvageable food, figuring they could still eat it tomorrow if Ichigo felt better.

Suddenly aware that he was alone in the dark and the quiet of someone else’s home, Renji leaned against the counter for a second with a thoughtful huff of breath and thought about that sneeze thing again.

' _Right when I was thinking about him... It's just weird... Wait a second..._  '

Feeling as though he were being watched, he narrowed his eyes and turned.

He managed not to jump when he saw Ichigo’s cat looking at him, crouched on the arm of the sofa. Even though the counter island was between them, not to mention a great deal of open space, Renji reeled back a bit, staring at it uneasily. Now that he was looking at it more closely, he couldn't help but realize that it was really big – not fat, like _large._

It was one of those Savannah cats, or maybe a Bengal, Renji’s not in the know on cat breeds. The point was, it was one of those cats that was supposed to be four generations away from a wild cat, and this one looked like it was actually only three away. Just looking at it, he got the sense that it was vicious somehow, and only half-tamed.

As if able to sense what he was thinking, the cat suddenly leapt towards him, somehow making the span from the couch to the countertop. Renji startled, snapping back away from it. “Yipe!”

He watched the cat for a moment, having fallen back against the sink, his heart pounding as he stared at the gigantic thing. It licked a paw and then hunkered down, seeming to glare at him. Renji glared back stubbornly, sticking his lip out at it. “I’m bigger than you,” he told it, feeling rather foolish as soon as he had. It licked its impressive chops, and Renji edged away from it, continuing to watch it suspiciously as he cleaned up the rest of their stuff.  
  
Once he finished, he stood and stared at it for a few seconds, then slowly reached for his bag and headed down the hall with it. He rapped on Ichigo’s half-open bedroom door with his knuckle and then entered when Ichigo called ‘come in.’ Warily glancing behind him at the monstrous cat sauntering after him, Renji couldn’t help but feel like it was hunting him. Ichigo might be a prime candidate for ‘Renji’s favorite person,’ but that didn’t mean Renji wouldn’t kick his pet in the face if it tried to get him – that animal was fucking huge, and was looking at him like a fresh carcass. . . Not that he’s scared of it or anything though.

Renji tossed his bag down and then slumped to the floor near the side of Ichigo’s low-rise bed, glad to see that Ichigo – the stubborn ass – had gotten under the covers, his head propped up on his pillows.

“You feel better?” Renji wondered, twisting at the waist and leaning an arm on the bed by Ichigo’s legs.

Pointedly not thinking about how cute Ichigo’s nose looked flushed pink like that, or that he was snuggled in like a bug in a rug, or that he was _in Ichigo’s bedroom_ – admittedly, as he had been many times before – Renji instead cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck.

“Mm.” Ichigo seemed wide awake, eyes bright, his brow softened, giving Renji a rare open expression. “Sorta’.” He rubbed his pink nose a bit and sniffed. Renji still didn’t want to accept that Ichigo really was getting sick and that this wasn’t going to go away in the morning. They were going to be alone together this week and Ichigo would need care. Renji didn't know what he was going to do if it turned out it was up to him to take care of him.

“By the way, how bad is your fever?” Renji asked, face creased with a frown as he wondered hopelessly where he was going to find the strength to get through the week without giving anything away.

Ichigo hummed, blankets pulled up onto his chest under his arms. He squirmed his shoulders awkwardly against his pillows, which Renji recognized was an attempt at a shrug after a few moments. “I haven’t taken my temperature.”

“W-” he sputtered, “Take it already! What kind of idiot-?!”

“Hey, it only came on just now!” Ichigo protested, then winced a bit, closing his eyes and wriggling down under the covers further. He sighed. “I’ll do it tomorrow if it’s not gone,” he mumbled begrudgingly.

“Tomorrow?!" Renji glared at him. "Dude, quit being a loser!”

 “Stop,” Ichigo complained when Renji put his arm on the bed and reached a hand out to feel his cheek. Ichigo blocked him effectively, and then when Renji realized he was trying to touch Ichigo’s face, he stopped.

' _Boundaries, Abarai, god damn.'_

Ichigo pushed his frozen hand away. “I don’t wanna’ do it right now, okay? Lay off,” he tried, his voice losing its energy near the end and becoming almost a whisper.

‘ _Shit, he looks bad. Well, not bad, but- whatever.’_ Renji frowned, straightening up. “You wanna’ just stay there?” He rose onto his knees, making to get up. “Tell me where it is an’ I’ll get it.”

Ichigo shook his head and coughed. “I don’t need-”

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll look on my own,” Renji insisted stubbornly, standing and folding his arms. Ichigo gave him an exasperated glare, then rolled his eyes back with a tired sigh.

“It’s in the bathroom cabinet,” he said, then put up some more token resistance, protesting rather feebly, “I probably don’t even have a fever though, so-” but Renji ignored him and walked out of the room.

He found his way into the bathroom and turned the light on, checking under the sink and then opening the mirror. He tried not to look at Ichigo’s comb, his nailclippers, various medicines, and bandages, feeling as though he were intruding, but of course it was impossible not to look at anything when searching for something, and seeing Ichigo’s personal items put that familiar warm and achy feeling in his chest.

‘ _His toothbrush is pink,’_ Renji noted, practically caving in on himself, then shut the cabinet hastily.

He checked under the sink again, moving toilet paper and a bottle of Drano, and was pleased to find a first-aid kit. Pulling it out onto the floor with him, he opened the lid and rifled through it, taking things out carefully, as it was packed several layers deep. Eventually he did find this weird-looking thing that he assumed was the thermometer. It had what looked like the right buttons, but attached to the handle was this weird _pod-shaped_ thing that looked like a cross between a TV-satellite dish and an egg.

He stood and brought it back with him, trying not to look uncertain about whether it actually _was_ a thermometer or not, because if it wasn't, Ichigo would never let him hear the end of it, the little shit. Renji figured it was a thermometer, just not the kind that went inside, otherwise...

He cleared his throat sharply – otherwise he didn’t know what the fuck else it could be.

Renji crouched by Ichigo’s bedside, holding the instrument out on flat hands, looking down at it and then up to Ichigo’s face. Ichigo’s expression was its usual mellow tone, and was completely unreassuring. “This is the thermometer,” Renji said, “… right?”

Ichigo tried to clear his throat, sinking further into the bed, more lying down than sitting up at this point. He was looking worse and worse. He was sneezing less now that he was in bed, but his voice sounded raspy and strained, and his cheeks were pale. Renji was actually starting to worry a bit.

“Yeah,” Ichigo confirmed, and Renji acted as though he’d known it all along. “Give it here and I’ll do it.” Ichigo reached out to take it, but Renji pulled it away, examining it.

“Just relax,” he hummed, turning it over and looking at the pod part, which he assumed went up to Ichigo’s ear… somehow. Gripping it and twisting it around, he was surprised when a cap popped off of it, and suddenly it made way more sense, as there was a sort of blunt cone-shaped tip that obviously was meant to go inside an ear. “An’ I’ll just…”

Ichigo gave him a skeptical look, eyes narrowed. “Do you know how to use that thing?”

“Chill!” Renji shouted hotly, “I do!” He put a hand to Ichigo’s chest for a moment to push him back. “Lay down now,” he insisted, and although Ichigo continued to scrutinize him with a grimace, he conceded to slide further down beneath the blankets, lying on his back.

Renji was immensely pleased when Ichigo gave him one last look and then trustingly eased his head to the side to turn his ear towards Renji, baring his neck and the underside of his jaw. With an anticipatory breath, he carefully moved his hand forward and tried to put it in, but Ichigo jolted away and peeked an eye at him, lifting an arm to hold his hand back.

“Put on a new cover,” he said.

Renji glanced down at the thermometer case and fiddled with it, eventually figuring out how to pop out the bottom where a stack of little plastic lids were stored, probably used to keep it clean of earwax. He pulled one of the shells apart and rested it on the tip of the thermometer, then wiggled it carefully into Ichigo’s ear and used it. Ichigo closed his eyes and lay still, letting Renji rest his wrist against his cheek.

Renji held the thermometer there for a second and then took it out and checked the screen. Ichigo opened his eyes and frowned. “It has to stay in for a while,” he said. “It’ll beep.”

“I know.” Renji scowled. “I was just testing it.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes and huffed, but turned his head to the side to let Renji put it back in. He let his eyes drift closed for a time and then back open halfway, seeming rather dazed. Renji was probably mistaken, but it looked like his cheeks were flushing, a bit more so each time he wiggled the thermometer on accident.

“So…” Renji tried, to pass the time, “I didn’t know you had a cat?” He glanced over behind him, and sure enough, the cat was still watching him from the doorway, the tip of its tail flicking from side to side.

“There’s two.”

“Hm?” Renji blinked, half-thinking he might’ve misheard Ichigo’s quiet mumbling. He almost thought this ear thing was lulling Ichigo to sleep.

Ichigo pointed vaguely, and Renji glanced over his shoulder, then did a double-take when he realized there was another cat sitting on the dresser right next to him looking right at him, and he jumped. “ _Oh geez!”_

“Ow!” Ichigo yelped as Renji jabbed him in the ear. Renji promptly dropped the thermometer to keep from hurting him worse.

“Shit, sorry! Oh wow - are you okay?” Shit, he hadn’t blown out Ichigo’s eardrum, had he?

Ichigo winced and rubbed his ear with his palm. “Holy crap,” he hissed. “I’m too young for hearing damage, Renji.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Renji apologized meekly, but Ichigo just sighed and gave him a wry twist of his lip.

“Just give it here, you big idiot.”

Ichigo lay in bed miserably and held the thermometer to his own ear. Renji frowned sheepishly. Ichigo really didn’t look too good. His neck was becoming shiny with sweat and the tips of his bangs were starting to stick to his forehead just a little.

Renji huddled closer to the head of the bed near Ichigo when his cat-beast that had been lurking in the hallway loped in and jumped onto the bed, walking around on top of Ichigo for a while, seeming to be investigating. At least, that’s what Renji thought until it began scratching at the blanket and picking it up with its claws and occasionally flashing its teeth at him.

Renji sat back and glared. This damn animal… ' _Ichigo doesn't belong to only you!'_

“Hey, hey…” Ichigo made a few noises with his tongue and pet the fluffed hair on the cat’s back, smoothing it down. Sufficiently distracted, the cat turned its attention away from Renji and wound itself against Ichigo’s free arm. Pacified for the moment, it settled near Ichigo’s face, but eyed Renji – smugly, he thought.

Renji grit his teeth and scowled at it with a vicious jealousy. ‘ _Fucking brat…’_

Ichigo held the thermometer carefully, using his other hand to reach up and pet his cat with one finger. He didn’t meet Renji’s eyes. “Sorry,” he said almost sadly, “they’re not that friendly.”

Renji generally liked animals, so he tried to stop scowling, seeing that not getting along with Ichigo’s pets was upsetting him. “It’s not you,” Ichigo explained with a sigh. “Even for me, they’re not always…” He cleared his throat, looking away. “They weren’t likely to be adopted,” he said lowly, and Renji’s frown softened.

“They were for the chop, huh?” he surmised, endlessly enamored by the warmth of Ichigo’s heart.

“Mm.” Ichigo still didn’t look at him, eyes lowered. He turned to his cat a bit and pulled gently on the end of its tail when it flicked against his nose one too many times.

“They’re… interesting,” Renji conceded. Ichigo gave him a glance, watching as he reached out a finger towards the Bengal. He made it about halfway before he was wildly hissed at and swatted with clear intent to scratch.

Renji snorted amusedly. "You're not so tough, are you." It puffed its fur up and hissed more, snapping at Renji's hand.

Ichigo shrugged his shoulder then to jostle his cat. “Ah, get out, Grimm, go,” he scolded. He pushed the cat away from him, prodding its legs. “Go, get out, meanie.” It stared at him almost confusedly, and Renji gave it a triumphant smirk.

‘ _Hah, see?! He likes me better!’_

“Go,” Ichigo insisted, prodding it off the bed with his foot, and it finally hopped down. As Renji looked at it, it stalked away sulkily. Ichigo shook his head after it with a sigh.

Renji snickered lightly, and Ichigo conceded to smile hesitantly. “Mine are the problem kids,” he mumbled.

“Takes one ta’ know one.”

Ichigo raised his eyebrows at him and scoffed. “Pff’.”

They laughed together for a moment, and Renji only shot a half-wary look towards the other cat, which was huddled in the darkness next to a stack of books, still watching them both with luminous green eyes.

Ichigo snorted heavily, and Renji turned back to see him shaking with laughter. “Hey,” Renji complained halfheartedly, grinning in spite of himself at the sight of Ichigo smiling. For a moment, their eyes met, and Ichigo continued to smile at him, although it softened considerably.

Renji’s laughter died away, his smile fading after a second or two of silence. He knew the color of Ichigo’s eyes by heart: brown, warm and dark around the edges, but almost golden in the center – big and bright and burning into his soul. He knew them by heart and still, just looking at them melted him completely.

He licked his lips helplessly, and then, out of nervousness, was the first to blink, managing to look away and clear his throat in discomfort. Ichigo seemed to be about to say something, but then the thermometer beeped, and whatever weird moment had happened or _almost_ happened between them passed.

It seemed like things always happened that way. If ever he was too obvious, Ichigo either ignored it, or Renji somehow evaded the inevitable confrontation. He just wondered when that luck would run out and he  _would_ have to face what Ichigo might say.


	4. Chapter 4

Renji read the small grey screen of the thermometer. Ichigo did have a fever – shit, it was a high one.

Sighing and resting his elbow on the mattress at Ichigo’s side, he sat next to the bed with a sniffly Ichigo, his face pinched with concern. “Is there anything you want me ta’ bring you?”

“No,” Ichigo sighed, looking away. He’d pulled the blankets up further, covered up to his shoulders. Maybe it was just Renji being silly, but it felt strangely intimate to sit here with Ichigo while he was lying down like this. He'd been in Ichigo's room plenty of times back when he'd been in high school, they'd even had sleepovers occasionally, but this felt different. Sitting at his side here, Renji felt as though he should pet Ichigo's head or tuck in his blankets.

He did reach out and smooth a wrinkle in the covers down, and surveyed Ichigo's poor sick face. At least he didn't seem queasy at all. Trying to lighten the mood, he cleared his throat and huffed a laugh. "Heh', you know what this reminds me of?" Ichigo shook his head with a noise. "Remember that time we tried to see who could eat more soba at that one food stand and we both barfed?"

"Hah," Ichigo snorted, coaxed into a half-smile, "oh yeah. We must've eaten a million bowls 'cause you thought you could beat me."

"Dude, I  _did_ beat you!" Renji insisted, to which Ichigo rolled his eyes and sniffed. "Or what about that time Ishida got sick and you drew that thing on his mask without him noticing?" Ichigo began to laugh a bit. "What was it again, anyways - a mouth with sharp teeth or something?"

"Yeah..."

"Hah, he was so mad. Thought he was gonna' sew our feet together in our sleep when he found out."

"He totally would..." Ichigo sniffed and then let the tiny bit of smile Renji had brought out fade. Renji tried not to let his face fall in discouragement and recalled the time Rukia had found that bunny and Hisagi hadn't been able to stop sneezing long enough to tell anyone that he was allergic. Ichigo didn't smile at all that time, his eyes lowered.

"Man, we had some good times," Renji sighed, grinning, and Ichigo nodded again, sniffling, but seemed somehow downcast.

"Mhm," he mumbled, and was quiet for a while. His forehead had turned a bit pink, and Renji anxiously frowned when it seemed like his sickness was starting to worsen. When he'd taken the temperature, Ichigo hadn't seemed feverish, but the thermometer had said otherwise, and Ichigo was starting to look the part now.  
  
Finally Ichigo sighed, surprising him. "Anyway, I’m sorry,” he rasped.

“Hm? How come?” Renji wondered, brow creasing at the sad tired look on Ichigo’s face.

Ichigo swallowed and fidgeted with his hands a bit, voice colored with guilt. “We used ta' do that stuff all the time... Now... Well, you came all this way an’ we promised to hang out like old times, and here I am laid up,” he muttered frustratedly. Renji shook his head, waving a hand.

“Ah, so what? We planned to meet, so I came. That’s all there is to it.” Renji didn't look at him, not wanting Ichigo to be able to read his eyes. ' _I would've come no matter what...'_

Ichigo looked at him for a moment, then back to his hands. “Renji…”

“Anyway, of course it’s a shame you’re feeling bad, but it’s okay,” Renji reassured with a half-smile. “It’s been months since I’ve-” Clearing his throat sharply and trying to keep on track, he amended, “Since we’ve hung out, I mean – and before that, it was months again. An’ well, it sucks… but just 'cause you're sick doesn't mean this week is ruined or something.”

Giving Ichigo a wry teasing grin, he needled, “I wouldn’t have rather put this off just ‘cause your body’s pathetic.”

The two of them had always had this carefully orchestrated method of conversation and interaction, and the proper response just then would’ve been for Ichigo to react – or at least put on the appearance of reacting – with anger or some kind of sarcastic retort. However, Ichigo just gave him a long and assessing look, and then quirked his lip in a smile.

“Heh,” he snorted. He really smiled then, fully, from cheek to cheek, and Renji, completely thrown off by the disregard for the rules that had been laid down between them for years, just stared, flabbergasted. "Thanks, man."

"Wh- Bu-" Ichigo smiled a bit more at his reaction, and Renji gaped, taken aback, flicking his eyes over him: pretty smile, pretty eyes, pretty face…

"What," Ichigo teased, full on grinning, practically _blinding him-_  "I  _do_ know how ta' say thank you, y'know." Renji blinked, taken aback, mouth ajar, and Ichigo snickered a bit, sniffling. 

' _Ah fuck... fuuuuck.'_

He swallowed hard, feeling hot all over. He stood up and turned sharply. “I’m gonna’ go… uh… Ice!” he blurted after searching wildly for an excuse.

Ichigo was silent behind him for a moment, and then confusedly noted, “Uh, I’m actually fine, so…” Renji felt a touch to the back of his leg, and hurriedly headed away.

“You’ve gotta’ cool down – ice, ice, ice,” he said almost frantically, and then exited the bedroom, closing the door hard. He leaned heavily against it and put a hand to his face.

‘ _Shit, this is bad…’_

He sighed and looked down at his feet and wondered if there was any hope at all for the rest of the week if it was already this bad. It was only the first day of Ichigo’s sickness after all, and it was bound to get worse.

‘ _I’ve gotta’ cool off this fever…_ My _fever.’_


	5. Chapter 5

Renji stood in the hall for some time, slumped against the door, letting his legs sag at the knee slightly.

This was exactly what he’d been afraid of, coming here alone without Rukia there to keep things from getting weird between them. It wasn’t that Renji found it hard to be Ichigo’s friend – they’ve spent ages alone together before. This time around, it just seemed especially hard.

It doesn’t even make sense really. Just as an explosion slows over time, living with this massive wonderful painful _thing_ inside of him should be getting _easier_ over time. He and Ichigo didn’t see each other every day anymore like they'd used to - they hadn't for a couple years now. They've been apart for long enough that Renji should have moved on by now… but his heart…

He swallowed and looked at the ground. There was no chance, there never had been, and he _knew_ that, he'd always known that, he'd known it from the very beginning, but it didn't matter, because emotions don't obey the brain - they obey the heart - and despite all the time and space apart, his heart won’t seem to let him fall in love again, out of some pathetic loyalty.

What’s worse was that this crush – scratch that, these _feelings;_ ‘crush’ made it sound juvenile and fickle, and three and half years going strong had definitely exited crush territory – these feelings weren’t even a secret. That was part of why he’d been hesitant to come here alone, because how he feels isn’t a secret, not even close.

Ichigo knows that he loves him. They've never had a conversation about it or anything, but Renji knows that despite his careful efforts to keep this to himself, Ichigo was still able to tell, Ichigo still knew how he felt about him. 

Most people would take that to mean there was no reason to keep it inside any longer, that it was a pass to be out in the open about it, but Renji wasn't a jerk. He knew there was a reason that Ichigo had this knowledge, yet never said anything despite knowing about his affections, and that reason was that Ichigo didn't reciprocate. Ichigo didn't feel the same way, and didn't want to have a confrontation about it, didn't want to fall out.

Well, Renji didn't want those things either, and also, there was the fact that Renji wasn't a dick, and he didn't want to push his feelings on someone who didn't want them, so he'd accepted very early on that he'd have to keep this to himself, and he had for quite a long time now. He wasn't going to confess and make Ichigo uncomfortable, make their relationship strained and unbearable, he wasn't going to force Ichigo to end their friendship. Renji was strong enough to endure this pain.

What sucked the most was that he couldn't comfort himself with hoping that this would pass.

‘ _Three years now, and two of those apart from each other – this isn’t going to pass.’_

Renji could handle it. He was used to the idea really. It was just… he’d forgotten how hard it was… how painful.

When he didn’t see Ichigo every day, he could forget the hardship of adoring him in silence, in keeping his care and admiration and teasing all within the realm of friendly banter. He could forget how hard it was to see Ichigo and laugh with him and joke with him and _love him,_ yet somehow have to find the strength to contain this heart, to keep this enormous powerful feeling inside of him and not let it out.

Coming here had brought it all back. Being alone together with nothing there to keep him from poisoning their relationship with these unwelcome feelings, with nothing and no one to stop him except his own resolve, it seemed nearly impossible to control.

It seemed _impossible_ every time he saw Ichigo’s face, to not just fall at his feet and blurt out, _‘I love you! God, I love you!’_

But Renji’s not a jerk, and no matter how impossible, he would keep it inside. He had to – especially now, when Ichigo needed the caring hand of a friend. If Renji was _anything_ , he was a good friend, and he would never betray that trust, he’d never be that selfish. He cared about Ichigo too much.

Renji grimaced wryly, glancing down at Ichigo’s cat, who was sitting there near his feet and staring up at him, tail waving back and forth. “This sucks balls,” he shared with it quietly, and it seemed they finally agreed on something.

It followed him as he headed into the kitchen, put some ice in a bowl, grabbed a towel and a glass of water. When he felt brave enough, like he'd gotten his shit back together, he went back to Ichigo’s room.

Ichigo propped himself up on his elbows at the sight of him, as if he’d been waiting. “You okay now, you spazz?” he grunted, still sounding confused, his eyes narrowed the way he did when he knew something was fishy.

Luckily, they were both excellent fakers, and Renji easily ignored the scrutiny, instead grumbling back halfheartedly, "Who's a spazz..."

After a cursory glance around the room, he noted with some alarm that the other cat had since moved to an unknown location, and, feeling mildly hysterical, he thought dismally that if this week with Ichigo didn't kill him, his crazy cats would.  

At least it seemed like he had a temporary truce with beast-cat, who'd followed at his heels into the room, placed a paw on his leg to use him as a foothold to peek up over the side of the bed at Ichigo, and then sauntered back out and down the hall when it deemed the two of them uninteresting and worth no further concern.

Renji set the bowl and towel on Ichigo's bedside table, moving his lamp and clock a bit to make room, and then offered the glass to Ichigo, who took it and sipped the water. Sitting down next to him again, back against the bed and his legs stretched out, Renji realized that he didn’t think he’d seen Ichigo eat any of the snacks earlier. He was sure he must’ve eaten _something,_ but he couldn’t remember clearly.

“Hey, have you eaten anything?” Renji wondered, propping his arms up behind him to stretch his shoulders out. “Anything you want?”

Ichigo set the glass down and snuggled down beneath the blankets. Renji could see him settle his hands over his tummy under the covers. “Now’s not a good time,” he hummed. Renji hesitantly accepted that, but still turned towards him and frowned.

“Well then you should try to rest now,” he mumbled, leaning his head on his hand. Ichigo’s brow scrunched up.

“But if I do, you’ll be alone,” he protested, “and after you came all this way so we could hang out…”

Renji cracked a wry grin. “Well I don’t have ta’ go away,” he suggested. “I can hang out in here – I could crash right here on the floor.” He quickly waved a hand, “I’m joking, I’m joking.”

Curling his toes up, a pit of dread burned hotly in his stomach. Maybe he didn’t have as much control of himself as he’d thought…

To his relief, Ichigo seemed to think it was funny, because he cracked a smile. Renji laughed a bit, scratching his head. “Anyways, don’t worry about how I feel, just focus on getting better.”

Ichigo pursed his lips and pulled his knees in. Renji stared for a moment or two, wondering whether he was misinterpreting what seemed to be a clear invitation. He realized he’d been correct when Ichigo raised his eyebrows. Renji blinked for a second more, then leapt onto the bed and happily wriggled around until he was comfortable.

He half-laid by Ichigo’s feet, propped up on his arms with his legs hanging off the side of the mattress.

“So,” Ichigo prompted brightly, starting the conversation for once, to Renji’s delight, “how’s your new job?” Renji rolled on his side and rested his jaw on his hand, allowing his grin to go a bit soppy at the sight of Ichigo wrapped up in his blankets all snug and cozy. “Is it what you expected?” Ichigo asked, and from the hesitant way he asked it, it seemed as though he almost didn’t want to know the answer.

“It’s great,” Renji shared, “when Kuchiki’s not cracking the whip over my head, that is.” They laughed together for a bit. Ichigo quirked a smile.

“Other than that though? You’re happy with it? I know how hard you always worked in school for this. Worth it?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Renji hummed, as always, disliking the thought that reaching his dream was a bit sour without Ichigo at his side to take pride in his accomplishment. He had Rukia, but the downside of having two best friends was that he needed them both in different and equally important ways. “Just… not the same,” he mumbled.

"Same as what?" Ichigo questioned.

Renji gave a hesitant shrug. "I did get what I worked for... It'd be selfish to want more than that," he said.

"No, it's not," Ichigo muttered back, giving him an incredulously offended look, and Renji shrugged again slowly.

"I guess I just miss how things were," Renji shared. "Me an' Rukia goin' ta' school, you guys all in high school, all of us hanging out together..." He took a wistful breath and let a smile come to his face. "You and Ishida bickering all the time, Orihime bringing her snacks around and everyone encouraging her, Asano flipping out, Tatsuki and Chad... Whatever my buds were doin'..." He grimaced. "Everything's different now... Some stuff's better, yeah, I finally have my job and my own place, but none of us hang out like we used to. We don't do that stuff anymore. Not now that-" 

He cleared his throat. "It's just not the same."

They went quiet for a moment, Ichigo silently watching him, and just as Renji was about to laugh it off, there came a sudden yowl and spitting from the living room. Renji startled, then realized it was the cats fighting.

“Shit,” Renji muttered, aghast, and went to sit up and get off the bed, but Ichigo shook his head.

“It’s fine, they do that a lot,” he assured, “They don’t ever hurt each other. They’re just loud.”

Renji furrowed his brow, but eased back. Ichigo sat up a little bit, turning his head as if he could look out the door and down the hallway. “Are you sure? It sounds…” It sounded like some serious mauling was going on, and that one cat seemed so much bigger and crazier than the other quiet one…

Ichigo listened for a second, then called, “Hey!” and then they both sat in silence for a moment when the cats stopped for a time.

Huffing in satisfaction, Ichigo muttered, “Grimmjow thinks he’s tough, so he fucks around.” He laughed then. "Heh', there was this one time he-"

Renji watched in concern as Ichigo paused and touched his forehead, then eased himself back down, wincing. Then he sneezed heavily, winced harder, then sneezed again – he moaned in pain for a moment, but the noise was cut off with another great sneeze. He finally lay still, then coughed a bit wetly, looking as though the stuffing had been knocked out of him.

“Here, take a drink,” Renji offered, handing him the glass again.

“Thanks,” Ichigo rasped back weakly.

Without thinking, Renji immediately said, “It’s nothing to me,” and Ichigo looked at him for a long moment, both of them holding the glass together and staring. Renji blinked first, letting go and turning his gaze away, kicking himself for the little slip.

‘ _Why not just say ‘it’s nothing?’ Or better yet, keep your mouth shut altogether. Will you stop doing this, Abarai? God, why do you have to be so fucking_ obvious  _about it?'_

Ichigo held the cup on his lap and was quiet for a few breaths, then wondered, “Why’re you taking care of me?”

Renji’s shoulders tensed, and without turning around, clenched his eyes shut. Here it was. It'd finally happened. It had been _bound_ to happen, really, that Ichigo would acknowledge it sooner or later. How could he _not_ when it must be plastered all over Renji’s face.

“… You know why.”

It was quiet after he finally said those words - quiet and uncomfortable and _horrible_ , and Renji felt like throwing up. He'd tried so hard to avoid this, he hadn't wanted this more than anything. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t he have just-

Unable to look at Ichigo, Renji cleared his throat. “I’m just gonna’-” He pointed over his shoulder and almost stumbled onto his face as he stood up and leaned down to grab the futon that was still rolled up on the floor. “I’ll go sleep out there.”

Operating solely out of a sort of numbed panic, he couldn't think past a blur of ' _fucked it up-_ _lost everything-everything-everything gone-all of it gone-'_

“Ehh, hey…”

Renji froze when Ichigo snatched a hold of his belt from behind, his hand fisted around it, pressed against his rear. He straightened up and looked back to see Ichigo staring up at him. Ichigo blinked back at him for a moment, then let go with a frown.

He pulled his hand back to his chest and said, “Ah, sorry,” in his usual calm bored tone.

Renji ducked his head. “No, it’s fine, it was my fault,” he said stiffly, scratching his neck.

“No,” Ichigo repeated, “I’m sorry anyways.”

“…” Renji stood there awkwardly, and Ichigo fidgeted a bit, frowning hard. 

"You don't have to go," Ichigo said somewhat tentatively, as if testing the waters, and Renji stared at his feet and bit his lip to detract from how much his stomach hurt, how hard his heart was pounding.

"It's fine," he grit out on reflex, "I'll let you sleep."

“No, it’s okay, you can stay in here,” he insisted firmly, and Renji hesitantly raised his eyes to Ichigo’s, to the warm reassurance and the boundless trust there.

"... Are you sure?"

“I just don’t wanna’ give you my cold,” Ichigo joked, rather flatly, but Renji could always tell when Ichigo was having fun with him. Even there, when the corners of his mouth went down instead of up, he could clearly see it was a smile.

“Don’t worry about me,” Renji said, as meaninglessly as he could make the words sound, hoping that they didn’t both realize what they really meant.

"Okay, well, then just..." Ichigo reached a hand out and tugged at his shirt a bit to try and drag him back. "Lay down here."

Renji allowed Ichigo to coax him back, and unrolled the bedmat on the floor next to Ichigo’s bed, sitting cross-legged on it. Ichigo smiled down at him, his hands folded on his stomach in satisfaction and his eyes warm and shining – and everything was _not_ gone or lost or fucked up. It was okay.

"If it's really okay," Renji mumbled sheepishly.

“Yeah. As long as you’re not bored,” Ichigo said with that same tone, flat and almost sour, but clearly amused, and kind, endlessly  _boundlessly_ kind.

Renji smiled, sighing through his nose. “Not a chance.”


	6. Chapter 6

Renji lay awake in the dark next to Ichigo’s bed. He was stretched out on his back, arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling, mind running endlessly over the day’s events, how he’d dropped more obvious hints than he ever had before, and yet Ichigo still hadn’t withdrawn his hand of friendship – in fact, he’d almost, dare he say it, _indulged_ him, let him be as close to him as social graces might allow.

He wondered if in the long run, this would make things harder, Ichigo taking pity on him in this way. It might be better if Ichigo slammed the lid down on it, gave him a strict boundary line instead of feeding him like a starved animal. He was bound to come back for more. He was bound to  _hope._

Renji sighed. He couldn’t seem to fall off into dreams, but Ichigo was soundly asleep next to him. They’d talked in the dark until Ichigo had grown too weak and exhausted, and had shut his eyes. It was a peaceful night – the cats were quiet other than their occasional movements through the house, and Renji should’ve been able to rest, but he couldn’t turn off his brain.

About ten minutes ago, Ichigo’s breath had started rasping in his chest, hissing with the effort, and his nose whistled slightly. Worse was that he could feel Ichigo’s bodyheat from here, and not in a pleasant romantic way either; in an _alarming_ way. It was raging like a fire, a wet blazing heat. The poor guy was sweating so much that his hair was damp and his face was flushed bright pink. Renji honestly didn’t know how he hadn’t woken himself up in the heat.

After moping on the floor for some time, feeling sorry for himself - why can't people make their hearts do what they want? - he sighed loudly in a sudden fit of frustration.

‘ _It’s too hot_ ,’ he thought tiredly, and finally sat up, sweating himself.

He was thankfully beginning to get drowsy by then, and yawned as he took his bandanna off, pleased with the way the air felt cool on his forehead. He took his hair down and ruffled it out, then lifted an arm to smell at his sleeve.

His shirt was sweaty and damp, and with another yawn, he pulled the sweltering thing over his head, laying it on the floor next to him. He looked at Ichigo again, gazed at him for quite some time, and then glanced around him guiltily, feeling rotten somehow for looking at Ichigo’s sleeping face.

Pulling his legs up a bit, Renji sighed and put a hand to his forehead, resting the weight of his head there. He thought about the summer Ichigo had graduated, how he’d gone off to school. He remembered how he’d felt that day; it had been like losing Rukia all over again.

He let his lip twitch with a sad smile when he thought of the beginning, how he’d gotten to know Ichigo, how he’d once hated him with a vicious jealousy, seeing him get so close to Rukia when he couldn’t – but then, the frustrating wonderful pain in the ass that he was, he’d brought Rukia back into his life, he’d healed all of Renji’s insurmountable pains, the pains of a _decade._ He thought of how he'd come to respect and admire Ichigo, how he'd come to be his friend, how grateful he'd been that this crazy kid had given him a second chance to get it all right - what an amazing gift Ichigo had given him. He’d forgotten how happy he could be.

He thought of how he’d grown to love Ichigo.

And then, seeing him leave… watching him get on the train and knowing he could never tell him his true feelings – it had been hard, just as hard as letting go of Rukia, missing her for ten years.

Renji had always heard about how you meet people for a reason and that they’ll change you, how love changes you, and he believed it was true. Looking at Ichigo’s face and remembering the things he’d done for his life, the things he'd felt in his time knowing him, how could it _not_ be true?

Without knowing quite what he was doing, Renji leaned towards the bed, gazing down at Ichigo’s sleeping face, the way his own hair seemed to frame it, hanging in a red curtain. He looked so innocent, lying there, peacefully dreaming… He rested his hand near Ichigo’s head, fingers just out of reach of his soft fluff of hair.

He thought of waving to Ichigo as he got on the train to leave, and the feeling of having lost the best thing in his life, of having wasted an opportunity. Rukia had been returned to him, and he was endlessly grateful, but it almost seemed like her return had been at the price of losing Ichigo – and it had hurt, to let Ichigo go without telling him how important he’d been and how he'd changed Renji's life, without telling him he’d never known how deeply a heart could feel, how much love it could fit inside of a person. It had hurt to watch him leave without saying those things, knowing that he was _never_ going to say those things.

He sat back and looked at Ichigo’s face, and ached. Had Ichigo known then? Had he been able to see it in his eyes? Had he seen through him then as he did now?

_‘You were my great love.’_

Renji looked down at him with a sort of bittersweet longing, his fingers curling up next to Ichigo’s face, not bridging the gap. He never would. All he could do was reach… let his fingertips come as close as he dared. ‘ _You are. You really are.’_

Ichigo moaned in his sleep suddenly, and Renji startled badly, pulling his hand back and flicking his eyes over Ichigo wildly for signs that he was waking up. Ichigo hummed a sigh and was still, that small movement having flashed the gleam of sweat all over his face and neck through the dim light of the digital clock. He didn’t look good at all…

After calming his heart, Renji sat up further and concernedly reached a hand out and felt Ichigo’s feverish cheek with his palm, then pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. He was hot to the touch, even more so now that he was asleep. He had to change clothes for the night before he made himself even sicker.

Renji got up on his knees and picked up the washcloth out of the bowl, the ice having melted away and wet it. He squeezed it out so that it wouldn’t drip and then wiped Ichigo’s face with a tenderness he’d never get away with if Ichigo were awake. Ichigo twitched and let out a shuddery breath, and then lay still again.

‘ _Shit, he’s bad.’_ Renji swallowed and folded the towel up, carefully brushing Ichigo’s hair back and then resting the towel on Ichigo’s forehead. He took Ichigo’s shoulder in hand and nudged him a bit to gently wake him.

“Ichigo,” he told him, “It’s not good for you to sleep like that.” He shook him a bit more. “Sit up and I’ll help you change clothes.”

Ichigo blinked blearily, waking up slowly as Renji slid an arm behind his shoulders and helped him sit up. The mattress beneath his back was wet and hot with sweat, and Ichigo’s shirt stuck to his flesh. “Hunh?” Ichigo moaned tiredly, head bowing forward for a moment when his neck was too weak. Renji brought him up to a sitting position, holding his shoulders steady. “Denji, whadda’ you doig’?” Ichigo mumbled, bringing one hand to his forehead.

‘ _Woah, he’s congested… What the hell did he say?’_

Ichigo mumbled something more, breathing in heavy pants, just letting Renji hold him up, and after listening to his weak whisper of a voice for a moment, Renji thought Ichigo might be delirious. Shit, he’d let Ichigo overheat and he’d cooked his brain.

“Like I said, you’ve gotta’ change,” Renji repeated slowly, squeezing Ichigo’s upper arms to keep him up, although he seemed more balanced now. “Here, take this off. I’ll help you.”

Ichigo didn’t even put up a token fight or respond in any way at all really, taking great rattling gasps, wobbling where he sat and letting Renji grab and pull at his clothes. Only after Renji had already begun helping did he realize what he was doing, that he was undressing Ichigo, _taking off his clothes_ , and his hands shook as he lifted Ichigo’s sweater over his head.

Renji tried not to let it bother him, but the truth was he could hardly stand it. It wasn't that he didn't trust his own self-control or that he was worried that his thoughts might stray south, it was just that Ichigo seemed almost loopy, and was neither fighting him nor cooperating, and it was quite alarming. Ichigo's face was rosy and damp, and he just sat there and let Renji undress him like a doll, swaying slightly, his eyes hooded and sleepy. Seeing him like that, helpless and weak as a baby - god, he can't stand it, he just can't stand it. Renji thought he might die for love of him. 

Honestly, he was beginning to feel quite afraid. "Don't worry, you're fine, just- just lemme'..." He tried to sound reassuring, but Ichigo didn't seem to mind either way if he said anything. It didn't even look like he was actually there with him at the moment, though his eyes were open. Renji swallowed hard. "It's okay, this is fine, I'll just..."

He peeled Ichigo’s t-shirt up with trembling fingers, lifting Ichigo’s arms and helping pull it off him, popping it over Ichigo’s ruffled sweaty head. Again, Ichigo let him do so, blinking dazedly and let his arms fall, docile and quiet as he sat there in his damp undershirt, collarbones bare and glistening with sweat.

Renji isn't bothered, since he’s seen Ichigo naked before, but with Ichigo so sick and dazed, he kept his hands under a strict watch anyways, using them only with the care of a friend. Ichigo’s complete lack of protest spooked Renji – because as closely as he watched his hands and as far as his thoughts were from anything inappropriate, he couldn't help but feel he was using Ichigo’s helplessness to his advantage, for his own sick purposes.

Ichigo let out a moan of discomfort and seemed to cringe forward slightly, breathing wetly through his mouth with some effort, his chest heaving and glistening in the dim light. He seemed to blink himself awake a bit, sniffing and looking miserable. "Almost done now," Renji mumbled to him, "C'mere, keep going... that's it, just stick your legs out. Sorry buddy, almost done. I know you don't feel good..." 

‘ _This is so wrong,’_ Renji thought darkly as he pulled Ichigo’s blankets down and took the socks off his feet, then unknotted the drawstring of his sweats.

He gripped the loose fabric at his thighs with weak jittery hands and tugged them down a bit, and by then, Ichigo sniffed and said thickly, “All’ do id’ ‘byself.”

‘ _Thank god._ ’ Renji released him immediately and grabbed Ichigo’s shirts – still warm – and fidgeted with them, turning his head away as much as he could while Ichigo slowly struggled to get his pants off his legs.

“Hey, so where d’you want me to put this? I’ll get something for you to-” Unable to help but glance back at Ichigo’s patterned boxer-briefs for an instant, he noticed the goosebumps rising on Ichigo’s arms. Flesh still slick when sweat, Ichigo gave up on his pants once they were over his knees and went to take off his undershirt.

Suddenly landing on the thought of Ichigo shivering with fever chill, bare-skinned and soaked with sweat, Renji leapt up – ‘ _Shit, that’s not good!’_ He was going to freeze like that. Renji hadn’t thought ahead of time to grab something for Ichigo to put on right away.

“Wait!” he yelped, ‘ _Not that I’m not happy to see you taking your clothes off-’_

Ripping the top blanket off his futon, he threw it over Ichigo’s back and hurriedly said, “Wait, Ichigo, wait a sec’.” He scrambled up and tore the room apart, checking the closet, Ichigo’s dresser drawers.

“Here? No – here,” he muttered, “Anywhere?” Finally he found a suitable long-sleeve with light breathable fabric, and fleece pajama pants. “Here, here’s something, hurry and put this on.”

Ichigo stared at him dumbly, face still pink and damp. The middle of his brow creased minutely as he looked at Renji, and finally he mumbled, “Huh?” He sniffed and wiped his nose heavily as Renji came towards him and tried to bunch the shirt up to pull it over his head, but Ichigo’s arms wouldn’t cooperate.  

"Ichigo, c'mon, quit being lame," Renji struggled, "Put your arms in!"

“You juss’ said da’ take id’ off,” Ichigo noted stupidly, staring at him in a dazed confusion.

“Take it off so you could change!” Renji said, feeling inexplicably panicked. “You’ve got a cold, put this on!” He lay the shirt in Ichigo’s lap and set the pants on the blankets next to him, then turned his back. “Here, I won’t look at you, just hurry and put these on,” he urged.

He listened anxiously as Ichigo grunted miserably and slowly took his clothes off. Ichigo took a very long time in changing, but eventually he sneezed wetly behind Renji, and he could hear the bedsheets rustling as he got back under the covers. Finally Renji called, “There, are you done?”

“Mhm.”

Renji turned back to see him laid out in bed, head pitifully sunk into the pillow. His clothes were in a heap on the floor. “There…” Without thinking, Renji reached a hand out towards Ichigo’s head, as if to stroke his hair comfortingly – it just felt like the natural thing to do in this moment – but he stopped himself just in time. “Do you want anything?”

Ichigo shook his head and then heaved and rattled with wet coughs. When he finally ceased, he burrowed in the blankets, covered up to his nose, just his shock of fluffy hair and his reddened moist eyes peeking out. “Tissue,” he croaked weakly.

Renji started, having caught himself just sitting and staring at him. “Ah.” He got up and looked around the house, then had to settle on bringing him some toilet paper and a waste bin. He'd have to go on a supply run tomorrow.

After Ichigo had gotten situated and blown his stuffed-up nose a few times, he told him something – or tried to at least. Renji frowned. “I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

“‘Day here,” Ichigo repeated more clearly. Renji wilted.

“Okay,” he said, surprised to find his lips trembling at the sight of Ichigo’s eyes closed in the dark and his hand thrown out of the blankets and weakly searching for something… “Okay, I’ll stay here,” he agreed almost desperately, his own hands on the bed as he leaned close to him. He felt a soft impact as Ichigo’s cat jumped past him onto the bed, curling up on Ichigo’s far side.

“‘Ride here,” Ichigo mumbled sleepily, his searching hand falling limp. He sniffled and breathed through his mouth loudly, chest heaving with effort.

Renji nodded, blinking hard, hands bunching up in the blanket. “I’ll stay right here until you go to sleep.”

Ichigo shook his head against the pillow. He tried to talk, but it stopped as a bubble of phlegm blocked his throat and forced him to cough. He quickly pulled the blanket up over his mouth and hacked and shuddered with coughs, then finally sniveled and breathed through snot bubbles, exhausted. “Okay,” Renji promised, “okay,” staying close to his side.

“Gid’ a pillow.” Renji had to lean close to hear him him. “Closid’.”

“Okay.”

Renji went to the closet and got another pillow, coming back to find that Ichigo had weakly scooted over a bit for him, just a little, the corner of the blanket pushed down. Renji lay down on the floor next to him, putting his leg up two and a half feet or so to rest under Ichigo’s covers, in his bed. Ichigo shifted his leg out a little bit, bumping barely against his by accident.

Satisfied, Ichigo fell asleep with his head turned towards him. Renji lay awake and watched his sleeping face for a long time. ' _He looks so sweet like that. Wonder what he's dreaming about...'_

He bit his lip and tried to cherish this moment, daring to let his foot brush against Ichigo’s hot sticky one – he tried to treasure it in his heart, but he felt rotten. When Ichigo woke up in his right mind, he was going to be so embarrassed, maybe even upset that Renji hadn’t put a stop to this.

Renji screwed his eyes shut, angry at himself as he rolled a bit closer, reaching his hand up slowly to curl around two of Ichigo’s limp fingers where they hung at the edge of the bed, just for a few minutes…

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he was a weak man with a weak, weak heart.


	7. Chapter 7

Ichigo did _not_ wake up embarrassed.

For one thing, Renji woke up far before he had, and got up so that Ichigo wouldn’t find them lying together the way they had the night before. He'd really landed himself in it this time, and if Ichigo kicked his ass out, he only had himself to blame. He didn't know why he'd had such a lapse in willpower last night, but he knew he'd gone too far, taken advantage of Ichigo's weakness.

Hopefully if Ichigo remembered any of it, he wasn't upset, or worse, regretful - the last thing Renji wanted to do was embarrass him. Maybe if he crept away and let Ichigo wake up alone, they could avoid any awkward or angry discussions later on. 

It was just as well, because he actually hadn’t slept well at all, and Ichigo hadn’t been much better. The poor guy had woken up all throughout the night throwing off the sweltering covers, only to rack with shivers and pull them back on – then he’d wake up again later drowning in his own snot and would cough nearly to the point of vomiting. Renji would be very surprised if Ichigo didn’t feel too miserable to comment on whatever that had been last night, letting Renji lay in his bed with him, even if it was only his leg laying under the covers…

It sucked, but all his hopes were riding on the fact that Ichigo might not even remember, and if he did, he might be feeling too sick to be mad at him. Renji might get another free pass, as he had many times before when he'd pushed his luck a bit too far.

' _Wonder how many times I can slide by with the skin of my teeth before he draws a line in the sand...'_

Once it had finally gotten light enough outside that Renji had felt alright about getting out of bed, he’d made himself an egg and rice, then checked Ichigo, who’d finally settled down and was dead to the world. It was actually quite worrying, as he hadn’t moved other than breathing through his mouth in a few hours, not even to roll over. Figuring it was best to let him sleep, Renji bumbled around the house, but was only able to take about forty-five minute intervals of silence before his paranoia would overtake him and he’d check Ichigo again, only to find him unmoved and still asleep.

After a few hours of this, Renji checked Ichigo’s temperature again, careful not to wake him – his fever was bad and remained unchanged for most of the day. Luckily – or perhaps, unluckily if Renji’s nerves were considered – Ichigo slept through a lot of it, and when he did halfway wake up, it was only to croak dazedly for water or the bathroom, and after Renji would help him, he’d fall quickly back into a fitful doze.

With Ichigo sleeping, his options for passing the time were pretty limited. Renji was left to play apps on his phone and try to avoid Ichigo’s creepy cats. The brown one stalked him through the house, following him if he left the room, and the ragdoll was worryingly absent, hiding away for hours at a time only to pop up silently and scare the living shit out of him. In fact, just a few minutes earlier, it had shown up on a shelf next to him, _staring_ at him, and he'd nearly jumped out of his skin, swearing loudly enough that he checked to make sure he hadn't woken Ichigo up.

A weird mixture of bored and antsy, Renji snooped around for a while, and eventually found the cats' food bag. He fed them, hoping to get them off his back for a while, then washed his hands and decided to check Ichigo again.

Heading down to his room for what felt like the hundredth time, Renji was disappointed to see that Ichigo still hadn't moved in the slightest from where he was cocooned in the blankets. His breathing sounded a bit better, but his face was still pink and sweaty, and Renji could feel the heat radiating off him without even touching him.

He laid a damp cool towel on Ichigo’s sleeping forehead and wiped his neck and cheeks. Bringing a few 'sick-foods', Renji patted Ichigo awake and tried to make him eat something, but he was only partially lucid and would move his head away every time Renji tried to feed him. Renji finally gave up and was satisfied when Ichigo took a few sips of water and settled back down to sleep. He'd try again later.

Renji passed the afternoon hours anxiously, trying to watch TV for as long as he could until he couldn’t keep himself from poking his head in to check Ichigo again. His longest time was about an hour and fifteen minutes. He raided the fridge and ate dinner alone, and then spent the rest of the night sitting with Ichigo boredly and helping him to and from the bathroom every couple hours.

By the next day, Ichigo had sweat so much that Renji at last felt that it would be cruel not to wash the sheets and let him continue sleeping in that sweat vat. That afternoon was better, and after several hours under a cool towel, Ichigo woke up enough that Renji felt he could be convinced to get out of bed for a bit.

"Here now, you wanna' try getting up for a while?" Ichigo didn't verbally respond, but his eyes did slide over to Renji, who winced - he looked completely wiped. "C'mon," he coaxed, "Come to the couch."

Ichigo managed a nod, rasping an affirmative, but made no move to get up. Shaky and weak, he let his eyes slip closed again as Renji moved the wet cloth off his head and put his arm behind his shoulders, supporting his neck. Renji talked him into sitting up, and brought him to an upright position slowly enough that he wouldn't faint from the headrush. 

"Okay? Put your arm around my shoulders. There, get your feet out - okay, can you stand? One sec'..." Renji pulled the top sheet from the bed and bundled it up next to them, holding Ichigo steady by one shoulder. He let Ichigo sit on the edge of the bed and wrapped the blanket around him, pleased that there came no protests.

"Okay, come out to rest on the couch. You can take a bath after you eat something." Against his expectations, Ichigo swallowed it with dignity, and didn't get cranky or demand to be left alone to take care of himself in his stubbornness. He'd let Renji manhandle him and wipe his head and walk him to the bathroom without any complaints. Renji supposed that was something to be thankful for, that he didn't have to fight Ichigo on every issue.

"Ready? Up you go..."

Ichigo didn't immediately keel over after standing up, which was a good sign, but Renji still kept a guiding hand at his back as he led him to the sofa to lay down and watch TV. Ichigo sniffed and took the remote when Renji handed it to him, and let him put a pillow under his head. Renji knew it must be a testament to how yucky he was feeling that he was being so agreeable; Ichigo was never this cooperative normally. "... There," Renji said once Ichigo was all settled in, bundled up like a caterpillar. "Try and stay awake for a while. I'll make something. I know ya' said you weren't hungry, but you should try an' eat..." Ichigo nodded, sniffling, and Renji didn't know whether to feel satisfied or troubled at Ichigo's compliance. This whole time, he hadn't had a single word of complaint. In fact, besides looking completely miserable, his demeanor and expression were actually quite pleasant. Even now, he simply lay quietly and flicked through the channels. He even ate a few bites of oyaku - which was so simple that even Renji could make it.

While Renji was in the kitchen washing out the pot that he’d used, he clicked the button on the wall above the sink to fill the bath. After glancing to Ichigo where he lay pitifully on the couch, but thankfully still conscious, Renji headed to Ichigo’s room and stripped the bed with the more active cat near his feet. It seemed to be warming up to him somewhat. He bunched the sheets up under his arm and tried to pet it a bit, and it did let him for a second, two, then tried to bite him, swatting him aggressively and hissing. All the same, a moment later it followed him with its tail raised happily as he bundled the laundry into a bag and looked for fresh linens. Weird animal...

Renji threw the bag in the hallway and opened the door to the bathroom to check the tub, finding it full and steaming. “Ichigo, it’s ready,” he called, heading back out to find that in the few minutes he'd been gone, Ichigo had somehow found a sickness mask and put in on, then meticulously tucked his blanket back in just like Renji had left it, perhaps in the hopes that he wouldn't notice that he'd gotten up the moment he'd left the room - but no such thing. Renji may be an idiot, but he wasn't stupid.

“What the fuck’re you wearing that for in your own house?” Renji wondered exasperatedly, and Ichigo, who'd been sitting there quietly watching TV and occasionally sniffling and sneezing into his mask, looked up with a defensive scrunch to his brow. Renji just huffed, coming towards him and sticking an arm under Ichigo’s to hurry him along and help him stand up. He’d sat up on his own, but seemed reluctant to get up and walk again. "Where did you even get that? C'mon, take that off."

“Contagious,” Renji deciphered when Ichigo mumbled something at him. He rolled his eyes and walked Ichigo slowly to the bathroom.

“I’m not gonna’ get your cold,” he told him, hiding how touched he was by his concern. He would’ve thought Ichigo was too miserable to worry about anyone. By this point he should've learned that Ichigo's kindness didn't take a vacation - or even a sick-day.

"If you're gudda' tek' care a' be, you will." 

“I don’t get sick, Ichigo.”

“Ebrywud’ gids’ sick,” Ichigo said, and because of his mask, when he glared, the effect was taken right out of it because his impressive frown was covered, only his pretty eyes there flashing and squinting at him in annoyance. Renji looked forward and nudged the bathroom door open.

“Not true,” he hummed back, looking at his feet, and in a moment of weakness, muttered, “Some of us’re lucky enough to avoid it.”

Ichigo looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowed, then said something else to him, but Renji huffed and rolled his eyes, pulling the mask off Ichigo's head and prodding him inside. “Get in the tub, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Ichigo grumbled and went in, holding the edge of the sink and slowly bending to try and take off his clothes. His whole body wobbled and trembled, and Renji cringed, wishing that he'd succeeded in making Ichigo eat earlier than today. With how shaky he was, it took him quite a long time to get his pants down, and when he straightened up he had to pause at the rush of blood to the head.

He clumsily took one foot out of his pants, then the other, then stood there in his boxer-shorts, breathing raspily through his mouth, and Renji startled suddenly as it crossed his mind to give him some privacy. Ichigo didn't tell him to go, but all the same, he stood in the hall, meaning to go away, but changing his mind when he wondered if Ichigo might have a spell of dizziness and hurt himself and drown or something. He waited outside while Ichigo undressed and rinsed himself off under the showerhead, and then when he heard him get in the bath, he came in and sat there with him, his back to the tub - and they talked. For a while it was like old times again, and the rock on Renji's chest lifted, even if only momentarily.

He heard Ichigo sigh a bit and the gentle swishing of the bath water as he moved around. “I’m the one goin’ da’ med school ed’ here you are takin’ care a’ be. It’s embarrasin’,” Ichigo said more easily. He sniffled and then sneezed.

Renji glanced back over his shoulder a bit to flash a grin, setting his arm up on the edge of the tub. “Mai’ doin’ a good job?”

“I’d say so,” Ichigo hummed, sinking down into the water up to his chin, closing his eyes contentedly. “Steam bath was a good idea. It’s already clearin’ up a bit.” He kept sniffing as his nose began running. 

Renji smiled at the sight of him: his skin was damp and flushed from the clouds of steam and his usual fluff of hair was slicked back and dripping, the sunny orange dimming to a dark blonde. ' _Ahh, he's_ _cute,'_ he thought for what felt like the thousandth time, with a wistful inward sigh. ' _Damnit, he's cute.'_

After a few quiet minutes sitting together chatting mildly, Ichigo seemed much more alert, to Renji’s great relief. The poor guy had really started scaring him for a while there, staying asleep and lifeless like that for such a long time. “How’d you know the things to do, huh?” Ichigo wondered aloud, finally taking his washcloth out of the bath and resting it on the side of the tub to cool. He leaned back to soak, sticking his feet out at the far side. Renji bit his lip and looked at Ichigo's wet toes, poking out of the water.

“Ahh,” he hummed, “So you know when me an’ Rukia were little, for a while there we were just living like wild kids.” He quirked his lip in an amused grin. “An’ y’know, before they finally caught us and got us in a home, we lived outside all the time.”

“Mhm,” Ichigo prompted, folding the cloth up and setting it on his head, letting the cooled water run down his head and neck.

“And I never got sick,” Renji explained with a long sigh. “But she did, all the time. Especially when it got colder,” he remembered. “I’d be so scared that she was gonna’ die and that I’d be all alone. I never knew what ta’ do.” His smile disappeared. “Well, they got us eventually, an’ then we were in the hospital for a while. Ugh,” he shuddered, “hate thinking about it.”

“They gave you all your vaccines, huh,” Ichigo guessed amusedly, sniffing and smiling.

Renji stuck his lip out and rubbed at his arms. “Fucking hate the doctors’,” he grumbled.

“You’re insane. I dunno’ how you the fuck you got your tattoos.”

Huffing and waving a hand, Renji blurted, “They were important, so I-” Shaking himself, he continued, “Anyway… we got put in a home then, and the next time Rukia got sick, the lady there was taking care of her and I made sure to remember what she did – in case.”

Ichigo sniffled and let his hands play in the water, part of his bangs coming loose from where he'd slicked them back in the steam. There was just a little curl of hair hanging over his forehead, a bead of water trapped there, swelling until it grew too heavy and dripped off. “In case what?” he wondered curiously, causing Renji to shake himself, having been gazing in fascination.

“Ah…” Getting back on track, he scratched the back of his neck in a bit of embarrassment. “I had this dumb fantasy that me an’ Rukia would escape the home together an’ that if she got sick again, I could take care of her on my own.” He shrugged. “It was stupid ta’ want to leave when they were feeding us, but I didn’t wanna’ be there. I knew we wouldn’t find a family, so what was the point.”

He cut himself off then, beginning to ramble. “Well, that’s not fair, Rukia did get adopted. No one wanted me though,” he trailed off, realizing how much he sounded as though he was pitying himself.

“Don’t say that,” Ichigo said with a frown, and Renji’s ears grew hot, and he glared at his knees.

“Well it's true, ain't it? I never got adopted, Ichigo. When people came in to see me, they didn’t want me as their son. Foster families kept sending me back... It’s to be expected,” he brushed off, “I was always trying to run away. I wasn’t likely to be adopted in the first place.”

“That’s fucked up,” Ichigo told him firmly. “It's _not_ expected. No one should've sent you back. You were a kid - so you misbehaved, that's what kids do when they're alone and scared, or upset. It doesn't mean they get to send you back," he muttered darkly. Finally he said, "You just didn’t find the right people.” Renji looked at the door, frowning.

“I try ta’ tell myself that…” Taking a heavy breath, he considered, “I’ve got Rukia, and Ikkaku-san and Yumichika-san…” ‘ – _and you. I have you too.’_ Scratching at his ponytail, he muttered, “I did alright for a family. Just took me longer than most to find someone ta' love me.” He was glad he hadn't looked at Ichigo's face for that one, because the ensuing silence made Renji want to take a hammer to his teeth.

“Renji…”

“Ahh, sorry,” he cleared his throat, hearing that he was making Ichigo uncomfortable with his self-pity. “Didn’t mean ta’ get so serious.” He leaned back towards Ichigo and grinned. “Anyway, I’m sure if I did get the bug, you could take care a’ me way better than I’m doin’.”

Ichigo looked at him for some time, then smiled a bit. “Probably,” he teased, then sank into the water. Renji leaned his arm on the edge of the bathtub for a moment, grinning, then suddenly realized how far he'd turned around when his eyes were able to wander farther than should've been allowed. For a moment he was frozen, because he doesn't even know when he'd twisted sideways or how he could've done so without realizing, but he'd indeed turned far too much for privacy's sake- Ichigo was _in the bath_ for god’s sake, beautifully naked, and since the water had no soap, it was clear straight to the bottom of the tub.

Renji’s seen it all before, he tried to tell himself that, and although it doesn't affect him in an indecent manner, he still found his lapse in self-control alarming, and despite Ichigo's continuing smiles, he still turned his back firmly and dug his nails into his leg as punishment.

Seeming to take his sudden tight-lipped silence for something other than what it was, Ichigo awkwardly suggested, “You don’t have to stay, y’know.”

Renji’s shoulders tightened in dread, and he immediately made to get up. “I can go, if it’s weird-”

Ichigo quickly stopped him by reassuring, “As long as you’re not bored.” Renji glanced back to see him sheepishly settling deeper in the tub, his knees poking out of the water and gleaming. “I just wanna’ stay in for a while longer.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” he hummed.

“I can bring you a book or something,” Renji offered. Ichigo considered for a time, and then nodded.

“Okay, thanks. The one in the TV cabinet.”

“Sure.” Getting up, he was careful to keep his eyes from wandering and taking in the view, which was torturously clear from the vantage point standing provided, giving a clear shot straight down into the tub and Ichigo’s lap.

' _Stop it. Just stop it.'_

Heading out into the front room, Renji went straight there, looking under the TV and opening the little doors beneath it to see Ichigo’s DVD and game collection. There was a book there, marked with bookmark, and Renji prized it out, holding it in his hands and turning it around to read the cover when the front had no words on it. Oh right, an English book - they were backwards. 

‘ _The…’_ he read slowly, ‘ _Pic-… something… of…’_ he tried, then sighed. ‘ _Shit.’_

He brought Ichigo the book and held it out to him. “Here,” he said. Ichigo sniffed and perked up at the sight of him, sitting up a bit in the tub, elbow on the edge of the bath.

As if able to read Renji’s mind and do exactly what he dreaded, Ichigo asked, “Can you read it out?” Giving an apologetic look, he explained needlessly, “My hands are wet.”

“I dunno’…” This was something he’d always tried to hide. Renji had been in the advanced classes and passed with great grades, but it had been a real struggle – he was badly dyslexic, and it was a thousand times worse with the Latin alphabet and their backwards reading and writing. He didn’t want Ichigo to think he was stupid, more than anything. “My English isn’t so good,” he tried, but he knew it was no use. He was pitifully weak for those eyes.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ichigo assured, but he wasn’t able to keep the disappointment out of his voice, and Renji inwardly groaned.

“Ahh, okay,” he agreed, sitting down next to the tub and holding the book in his hands, looking down at it with dread. Cracking it open to the bookmarked part of the short story, he stared at the page for a long time, before making out the first words.

With a heavy sigh, he began to read aloud clumsily, keeping his place with his finger, going one word at a time. The first sentence wasn’t so bad – he only messed up on the name – and when Ichigo didn’t correct him or react in any way other than looking back at him when Renji glanced his way, he stumbled on.

“‘So I have… m-…” Renji sighed and struggled, brow furrowing in embarrassment. Ichigo sat up then when he got stuck, and Renji froze as Ichigo leaned against the end of the bath, face close to his ear as he read over his shoulder. Heart sputtering in his chest, he held absolutely still, afraid if he so much as twitched, Ichigo would move away.

“‘So I have murdered Sibyl Vane,’” Ichigo said nearly perfectly, voice quiet next to his ear. “She killed herself from heartbreak earlier,” he explained.

“Oh shit,” Renji whispered, eyebrows raising, interest piquing, and let his shoulders relax as Ichigo cozied up next to him. In any other situation, he may have been annoyed to have someone sniffling in his ear, but he didn’t think he’d ever been as content as he was now, with Ichigo reading aloud over his shoulder, his arm touching his back just barely.

Renji would occasionally turn the page for them and followed where Ichigo read with his finger, and would mouth the words along with him – as he heard them spoken aloud, they untangled one by one, and he could read them perfectly.

After a long time following the dark mystery of the painter and the model, Renji set the book down in his lap and looked up with a sudden thought. “Ichigo,” he said very seriously, “is this a gay book?”

Ichigo stared back at him with his mouth ajar for a moment, then snorted loudly, “Pfff’,” clapping a hand to his face when his laughter made his nose drip.

“Why’re you laughing?” Renji huffed. "It's a legitimate question!"

“You’re just-” Ichigo snickered a bit more, and Renji’s anger was soothed a bit at the sight of his giggles.

“No, I wanna’ know,” he insisted, “are Baziru and Dorian gay?”

Ichigo sighed and shook his head with a roll of his eyes. “How would I know?”

Renji’s brow furrowed. “The painting,” he said, “That’s why they’re both obsessed with it.” Ichigo mumbled that he was impressed that he’d actually been paying attention, but Renji insisted Ichigo answer him, “Are they in love?”

Ichigo considered for a time. “Well,” he finally said thoughtfully, scratching at his forehead. “Basil seems to love Dorian, I guess,” he muttered rather uncertainly.

“What about Dorian?” Renji pressed, determined to know how it ended. The book seemed so sad and dark that it gave him the feeling that it didn’t work out for them.

“I think it’s unrequited. Dorian’s…” Ichigo hummed sourly, looking away, “not a good person,” he finished.

Renji looked down at the page, again indecipherable unless he stared long and hard at each word individually. It had seemed so easy a moment before... “Do they get together?”

“Don’t ask me to spoil it,” Ichigo grumbled, but Renji wouldn’t let it drop, frowning.

“So they don’t then?”

Ichigo let out a long sigh, staring forward. “… No,” he said shortly, glancing to Renji with his brow tensed. “No, they don’t get together.”

Renji thought on that for a time. “… What happens in the end?” he wondered trepidatiously.

“…” Ichigo grimaced, and didn’t say anything.

“Something horrible?” Renji guessed quietly, and Ichigo opened his mouth, and for a moment, Renji's heart began pounding quite hard, because he'd never seen that look on Ichigo's face before, and it almost seemed like... like-

The cats began fighting in the other room, kicking up quite the racket, and Renji huffed annoyedly, “Oh for god’s sake.” He looked back to Ichigo, but the moment was gone once again. Ichigo was staring at his knees, expression far-away.

“You can borrow the book if you want,” he eventually offered.

Renji shrugged his shoulder. “Nah… I’m not a strong reader. Plus it sounds like kind of a downer.”

“You don’t know what’s gonna’ happen. Besides,” Ichigo said, “It’s only a story.” Renji looked back sharply and saw Ichigo smiling warmly, and he hesitantly smiled back, toes curling up.

“I guess…”

“Good,” Ichigo said, and although his face was already bright and hot from the steam, if Renji didn’t know better, he’d say Ichigo might be blushing – judging from the way he avoided his gaze and turned his mouth down the way he did when he was embarrassed.

“Now get out, or I won’t be responsible for what you see,” Ichigo joked, making to get up. Renji laughed heartily, standing up and closing the book, setting it on the sink.

“I’ll get a towel. Stay in. You'll get a chill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please try to leave a review, even a small bit of appreciation gives me so much encouragement to keep producing fanworks. Thank you for your readership.


	8. Chapter 8

Renji left the apartment later in the evening, leaving Ichigo to watch TV while he went out for cold medicine, tissues, and – at the last minute – a single-serving of chocolate ice cream, because even though Ichigo shouldn’t have it during a cold, Renji wanted to spoil him.

When he got back, Ichigo was laying on the couch, petting his cats. The ragdoll was comfortably curled up on Ichigo’s tummy with its usual dark fathomless green-eyed stare, while the wild one was playing with Ichigo, batting at a sock that Ichigo was flicking around.

To Renji's chagrin, Ichigo was coughing badly, wearing a mask again, and was surrounded by tissue balls. “Ichigo, for god’s sake, take that off,” he demanded as he slung his bags on the counter, digging through them.

“I’m spewing.”

“I don’t care, you don’t have to wear that – just take it off.” Ichigo did, pulling it down onto his neck just in time to gag on his own phlegm and practically puke into his hand, coughing and wheezing. “Ah god, Ichigo.”

Renji filled a glass of water and brought it to Ichigo, who was too miserable by then to argue with him. He snatched the sick-mask from over his head contemptuously and then softened his scowl when Ichigo began coughing as he tried to drink, choking himself and sniffling pitifully.

Ichigo collapsed back onto the couch and Renji worked around him and his cats to pick up a bit. Renji wasn’t good at cleaning, but he did try at least. Ichigo’s house was really neat, just as he remembered his room being neat back in high school, and Renji felt bad to see his house get trashed. With that in mind, as much as he didn’t like to clean, he threw away Ichigo’s tissues and picked up the stuff that Ichigo had just let drop on the floor because he was too tired to put it away.

Finally, he went back and rifled through his shopping bags. “Hey,” he said, “brought you this,” getting out expensive lotion tissues.

“Sweet,” Ichigo sniffled, ripping the package open when Renji tossed it over onto his legs.

“And this,” he showed him in turn a pack of cough-drops, some bottled waters, and rice-crackers. “And this.” He held up the ice cream, and Ichigo just stared at it. Renji walked over and handed it to him with a spoon, and Ichigo took it almost numbly, breathing through his mouth.

“Chocolate,” he noted dazedly. His nose was inflamed, and his eyes were red and wet, and he just stared at the ice cream like it was the last bit of food on earth. “Thanks,” he said in his thick congested voice, and he tore the lid off eagerly.

Renji finished cleaning up the front room while Ichigo ate his snack and moaned at the relief to his sore throat, sucking on the cold spoon. He then came and sat on the floor next to Ichigo, leaning against the couch and watched the ridiculous trivia show Ichigo had on. Seeming much more cheerful, Ichigo tried to answer the questions with him, and called bullshit on the stupid parts of the show.

Finally, he hummed, “You know, you don’t have to stay here.” Renji rolled his head back, looking upside down at him.

“Hm?”

“You came all the way out here, there’s gotta’ be things you were looking to do.” Ichigo ran his finger around the inside of the cardboard carton and licked the last bit off, then set it on the floor with the spoon. “You should be enjoying your break,” he said unhappily, “You don’t have to spend your time in here takin’ care a’ me.”

“Don’t bullshit,” Renji muttered, putting his elbow up on the couch, half just because he wanted to jab Ichigo in the leg. “You know I came here ta’ visit you – I’m not gonna’ leave you while you’re sick.”

Ichigo squirmed a bit and protested sourly, “It’s just a cold. It's not that serious.”

"I'm not listening to you."

"It's not like I'm going to die. I'm in med school for god's sake, I know how ta'-"

“Blah-blub-bl-” Renji cut him off, which made Ichigo scowl deeply.

“I-!”

“ _BLABLUBLUH-”_ When Ichigo closed his mouth with a deadpan stare, Renji leapt up and went into the kitchen for some food and to make some tea.

“… You don’t have to do this, that’s all I’m saying,” he mumbled, then sneezed and huffed, turning on his side with his arms crossed.

Renji didn’t know what to say to that, and paused for a moment after he heard it, staring at the stove. ‘ _Doesn’t that tell you something then? That I don’t have to, but I’m doing it anyway?’_

He grabbed the box of tea and some milk from the fridge to make Ichigo his hot chocolate, and still the answer wouldn’t come out, a million different responses passing through and facing immediate rejections. He couldn’t say any of it – _couldn’t._

 ‘ _I_ know _I don’t have to. You’d do it for me too, I hope,’_ he thought, and stared at his hands. He didn't know what to say that would allow him to keep walking on the slippery slope without plunging over either edge. What was he supposed to say? Was Ichigo testing him? Fuck, why was he doing this?

' _I don't get why you keep asking me that when you know the answer. I_ _know you know what it means. I_ know _you know why. What I don't understand is why you're letting me get away with it.'_

Renji didn't turn around to look at him, although he almost did on reflex. He knew Ichigo knew about his feelings, he knew Ichigo understood why he was trying to take care of him... but did Ichigo know just how much, just how deeply it ran?

‘ _Do you know what my heart does when I look at your face, Ichigo?’_

Renji put the water on to boil and stared down into the depths of the pot. He knows what he feels in his heart, he knows what he should say, what he’s wanted to say for three years. He knows how easy it would be to turn and let it come out.

‘… _I love you so much I think my heart will break.'_

He curled his toes up and grit his teeth. ' _That's_ _why. And I know you know. So why the fuck do you keep trying to make me say it? Why don't you just send me away?'_

Sometimes he entertained the thought of just getting it over with even though it would fuck everything to hell; sometimes he felt like wrecking everything if only to stop playing this game, but again, like every other time, he stopped himself.

He settled on snorting and saying, “Someone’s gotta’ make sure you don’t die up here.”

Ichigo made a pouty noise and whined lowly, “We were sposed’a’ spend time together.”

Renji closed his eyes and smiled and let that tight sad feeling pass as he always did. He wasn’t a jerk – he could keep it in. _He could._ He would keep his balance on this slippery razor's edge no matter what. That was the strength of his feelings.

“We are,” he said, “We can still have fun.” Ichigo sat up on the couch and folded his arms on top of his knees, resting his achy head on them as he watched Renji. His gaze made Renji itch, made him feel like curling up and hiding, because he knew that Ichigo saw right through him. He just didn't understand why Ichigo didn't turn him out, if he could see what was in his heart.

' _Don't stir,'_ Renji scolded himself. Ichigo was at a tie with Rukia for the most important person in his life, and he was endlessly happy that he'd met Ichigo and that he was at least allowed to stay at his side as his friend. It was stupid and ungrateful to hope for more. 

He soon came back with a hot mug for Ichigo and one for him, then sat down on the floor.

Ichigo wiggled forward off the couch next to him, bundled under a blanket cavern, one around his shoulders and one over his head, and they played some Streetfighter Alpha together on Ichigo’s _Saturn_.

Ichigo’s legs were loosely folded, and one of his feet was touching on Renji’s outstretched leg, and whether it was an accident or a coincidence or on purpose, Renji didn't let himself speculate. He can't let himself slip.


	9. Chapter 9

After they were all video-gamed out, Ichigo fell asleep on the couch for a while, and Renji did his own thing and let him nap. As he slept, Ichigo’s fever and congestion seemed to worsen again, so Renji tried to make some soup for when he woke up.

When he coughed himself awake, Renji came and wiped his hot face and tried to take care of him. One thing he’d noticed over the course of his life was that most people learned how to sneeze politely on reflex and send air through the mouth instead of the nose. Ichigo had obviously never learned this, because he didn’t sneeze politely at all – he sneezed like a _baby_ did, sending all the snot contained in his inflamed nasal passages straight out of his nose, leaving it hanging in strings from his face. When he blew his nose, it would fill the tissue and leave his lips and cheeks wet when he’d fail to wipe it well enough. Worse than that was that instead of blowing his nose, he sniffed and sniffed for as long as possible to try and hold it in, and then when he’d inevitably sneeze, it was far more disgusting because of the build-up. Renji had gotten over the grossness-factor early on in the game.

What was kind of funny was that Ichigo was in med school, and was usually very clean – he washed his hands and was very conscious of germs and how to avoid spreading them, but at this point he was miserable and desperate enough that he was wiping his face on his sleeves and his arms, and was sneezing directly into his hands instead of his elbows. Really, he was pitiful.

Renji held a cup of water for him while Ichigo wiped his face with his sleeve. He let Renji help him drink and settle back down on the couch, and then watched Renji for a time. Renji folded up the cloth again and set it on his forehead, carefully wiping back his hair. “You hungry? I’m making some soup.”

“Okay,” Ichigo rasped, and continued to look at him for a long time, as though he were thinking. Renji tucked his feet back under the blanket and moved his tissue box closer to him, then stood up to go check his food.

“How come you're being so nice to me?” Ichigo asked quietly, halting Renji in his tracks and sending his gut plummeting. "Why're you taking care of me?

Renji frowned and looked away, trying to nip this in the bud before it could get bad, because he knew exactly what Ichigo was getting at.

“Ichigo-” he tried.

“Really,” Ichigo rasped, eyes on his face, unrelenting.

Renji sighed and grit his teeth, hands balling into tense fists. “Are you sure you wanna’ have this conversation?” He dared to glance to Ichigo with one eye, and Ichigo was looking at him with his brow lightly creased.

“Tell me.”

Renji turned his back and breathed, “You know why,” his chest clenching up on the words, even though they were just air, even though they were harmless on their own.

“Then say it,” Ichigo urged in his thick strained voice, “Just say it.”

Eyes flicking around desperately, Renji croaked out, “Why, if you already know?”

Why was Ichigo doing this now? Had Renji pushed him into a corner? Had he come on too strong and made it unavoidable? Why was Ichigo doing this? To punish him – _humiliate him?_ Renji swallowed hard and bit his tongue.

He's tried so hard to be a good person - he's sure he doesn't deserve this, he doesn't understand why Ichigo would be so heartless.

“I’m asking you to say it.” Ichigo’s voice was soft, having coughed itself down to almost nothing, and even with the tone so gentle, Renji felt every word like the blow of a hammer. He thought he'd break apart from the pain. 

“Ichigo, what’re you tryin’a’ do ta’ me?” he begged, his voice almost cracking. He can’t do it – he really can't. He can't say it, and it's not because he was strong enough to withstand this cruelty. It's because he knows Ichigo doesn't love him back, and if Ichigo makes him say it just to shoot him down, his heart won’t survive it. That's why he can't say it, truly, and he can't bear it.

It came out then, in a moment of ugliness; undeniable. All this time he's told himself that he was keeping it in for Ichigo's sake, because he had to be the better person and not push his feelings on Ichigo, because he was strong enough to hold it in, but the truth was he'd never said it because he was too weak, too afraid.

He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't strong enough to hear Ichigo reject him, to hear that Ichigo didn't love him, didn't return this feeling. He already knew he was unadoptable, unlovable, unwanted, and he knew he couldn't make Ichigo love him; he knew all those things and could shoulder that burden - but he's not strong enough to do this. He can't say it, he can't lay out his deepest darkest strongest desires, his hopes, his affection, he can't lay that out to be ridiculed and torn apart. He's not strong enough to put the pieces back together afterwards.

And even now with Ichigo ripping through his facade, taking his excuses away, all that's left inside of Renji is regret, and guilt, and despair.

He's been a bad person, he's a bad friend. All this time he'd told himself he was happy with what he had, but he'd been harboring this secret hope.     He shouldn't hope for more. He's wrong to hope for more. He horrible to hope for more. It would be selfish to hope for more than what he deserved.

Renji balanced on a thread in the silence, body shaking, he can't slip, he can't - it's over, all of it gone, everything-

“Renji,” Ichigo said, and Renji broke.

He turned, eyes wide and pained, and took the few steps to the side of the couch – he crouched, and kissed Ichigo, full on his cracked and peeling mouth-breathing lips.

Ichigo was motionless against him, breathing into Renji’s mouth as he held his face and kissed him. Renji immediately hated himself, because he was a loathsome thief, that's what he was doing,  _stealing,_  he was a _traitor_ _-_ and like every other time, Ichigo was letting him do as he wanted, wasn't stopping him no matter how far he pushed.

He would stop, he really would, but he'd fallen off the edge and he felt delirious, hysterical, seized with the desperate urge to kiss him and hold him and love him, to let his selfish wants take over. There wasn't any taking it back; he'd already wrecked everything, and he might as well try and hold onto this moment. He held Ichigo's face in his hands and pressed his body over him, _don't let him escape, don't let him move or he'll push you away-_

After a long tense second of two of Ichigo holding as still as a statue, lips stiff beneath Renji's, he gave a hitched intake of break and squirmed strangely. Seized with panic, Renji dug his fingers into his cheeks and screwed his eyes shut, because if Ichigo pulled back or said no, he’d have to let go, he’d have to stop, and he wasn't ready, he didn't want to let go...

For this moment, with Ichigo twitching in surprise, he could almost pretend that Ichigo was kissing him back, he could pretend that what he was doing wasn't wrong, wasn't a betrayal, he could think about how he's always wanted to do this, always w-

“Ehh-ksh!”


	10. Chapter 10

Renji snapped out of it, startling badly when Ichigo shuddered once, twice, and then sneezed wetly right against his face. "...!"

Ichigo reeled back, both hands over his mouth and nose, eyes wide, but Renji just sat there stunned, mouth agape and eyes blinking in shock.

“Sorry!” Ichigo yelped, clearly _mortified._

Finally unfreezing, Renji wrinkled his nose at the sticky wet feeling and then wiped his face with a few tissues. That's what he got, wasn't it. That's what he fucking got. Renji stared at the floor and felt like there was ice in his gut. “No,” he mumbled, too ashamed to look Ichigo in the eye, “it was my fault. I shouldn’t have done what I did just now.”

Ichigo watched as Renji stood up. “Renji-”

“Please,” he rasped, throat tight with dread, “Try an’ forgive me. I’ll just-”

“N-!” Ichigo stuttered, “Hh…” He gaped at Renji as he retreated, and then just stared blankly for a moment, two, then put his head in his hands and exhaled heavily, his entire face ablaze.

Renji swallowed hard as he saw Ichigo move his fingers down, his eyes wide and flicking around, his hands still over his mouth and nose. Renji could see that his cheeks were red. Shit, he’d embarrassed him. Ichigo didn’t know what to say to him, did he, he didn’t know what to do.

Fuck, he's gonna' throw up. _He's_ done this. Whatever happened now, he had no one to blame but himself.

“I’ll go, I’ll leave you alone,” he promised hurriedly, stomach aching and eyes itching and burning.

“No," Ichigo said into his hands.

Gritting his teeth, Renji muttered, “Obviously I can’t keep control a’ myself-”

“Renji,” Ichigo tried, and Renji shot him a hot look then, because he knew Ichigo, he knew what he was like – he knew Ichigo’s kindness and the way he’d go above and beyond to keep from hurting a friend. He knew Ichigo was going to tell him not to go, he was going to forgive him, and he didn’t deserve it, he’s _never deserved_ Ichigo’s kindness. All he's done is fucking take advantage of it time and time again, and now he's crossed the line.

“I know you’ve known,” Renji growled, glaring into Ichigo’s eyes woefully, “and you’ve let me be your friend anyways – you always trusted me not to take advantage of that,” he choked, screwing his face up in rage and self-disgust, “but now I can’t trust myself.”

“You can, I promise you can.” Ichigo was looking at him with his eyebrows pushed together, mouth ajar, his expression almost one of fear and his voice stretched thin, cautious and soothing, as if to talk him down. “You, you don’t have to go,” he said slowly.

“I do. I have to get away from you.”

“I’m telling you, you don’t – not for me,” Ichigo promised, sitting up more, moving onto his knees on the couch, scootching towards him slowly, as if afraid he’d bolt.

“Well if not for you, then for me,” Renji snapped, voice raw. “I have to go.”

“No.” Ichigo shook his head. “No,” he breathed.

Renji shuddered suddenly, his voice cracking. “Ichigo, it’s too painful,” he choked out, then swiped at his eyes and made to leave the room.

“Stop!” Ichigo yelped, coughing heavily into his fist after jolting up onto his knees and reaching a hand out over the couch, although Renji was much too far away from him to be physically stopped.

“…” Renji halted, but didn’t turn around. He could hear Ichigo struggling to speak, breathing wetly as he gave several stuttering attempts at reasoning with him.

Finally he blurted, “Why can’t you just say it?”

“I’m a coward,” Renji shot back, because there's no point in lying now. Ichigo's already seen how cowardly and awful he is, and there's no point anymore. “I’m not strong enough.”

“For what?”

“To lose you,” he whispered. "Please," he begged, "Please just try and forget and I swear, I swear I won't ever touch you again. I'm sorry."

Ichigo tried to answer, but sneezed, and growled frustratedly at himself. “Renji,” he said, repeating it when Renji didn’t turn around. “Renji.” Renji managed to turn and look at him, raising his eyes to Ichigo’s face.

“You don’t know what’s gonna’ happen,” he said, nose running uncontrollably. Renji took a breath to speak, but the words were lost, and he ducked his head, turning to hide his eyes. “Just say it, Renji.”

Renji shook, hands in balls, and he clenched his eyes shut. “I…! I like you!” he shouted, “so much!”

The beat of silence following the words was filled with so much relief that Renji felt like collapsing right there, but instead he blinked and froze where he stood when Ichigo breathily huffed, “Was that so hard?”

He whipped around to find Ichigo standing and staring at him, his nose dripping like a kid who doesn’t know how to blow; he had eye crust and his face was flushed and sweaty, and Renji loved him, he loved him better than taiyaki, better than dogs, better than anything.

“I really like you!” he howled, and now that he’s said it, he can’t stop, he can’t keep it in a second longer. “I’ve liked you for so long, I can’t imagine not liking you! I can’t move on because you’re all I can think about – I’m _crazy!_ You make me _crazy!_   Just seeing your face-” He swallowed, “I feel like I'll explode!”

“Okay, I get it,” Ichigo said, clearing his throat rather awkwardly as he ducked his head and blushed.

“I like you!”

"Yeah."

"I really like you!"

“Ahem.” Ichigo dropped his gaze and wiped his nose. “Me too,” he mumbled.

Renji let his breath rush out all at once, stared for a disbelieving moment, then eagerly moved in and reached out hesitantly to touch Ichigo’s hand. "What? You didn't just say 'me too.'"

"Get the wax out of your ears, you monkey-brain!"

Renji gasped. There was no way... 

Feeling as though he were dreaming, he reached his hand out to Ichigo's slowly, and watched dazedly as Ichigo opened his hand to accept his and hold it. Ichigo stepped towards him with a hint of trepidation in his eyes, as if he felt brave for doing so, but then did nothing else, just holding his hand in a clammy grip. "... I," he tried, but then he just swallowed hard and put his arms around Ichigo and hugged him.

Ichigo rested his feverish head against his, returning the embrace around Renji’s waist, hands linking at the small of his back. Renji squeezed him, not wanting to let go – ‘ _Am I dreaming?  I... I'm holding Ichigo,_ ’ he thought in disbelief.

"Shut up and do it right this time, butthead," Ichigo said stuffily, and Renji felt a swoop in his gut.

He looked down into Ichigo’s eyes as they went to kiss each other. So excited and happy he could barely breathe, Renji leaned in – then blinked when Ichigo pulled back suddenly with a hand to his nose.  
  
“Ehh-” he huffed, inhaling sporadically as a sneeze built, but then finally settled, still holding his hand there cautiously.

He sighed then. “It’s gone.” Renji laughed out loud and then seized Ichigo in his arms and kissed him full on the mouth, humming contentedly.

When they broke apart, he held Ichigo close, snuggling his head against his neck and whispering again, “I like you.” He kissed at his ear, still hardly believing that he could, that he was able to have Ichigo in his arms. “I like you so much,” he told him.

“I like you back,” Ichigo mumbled almost shyly in his rattley sick voice, his hands gripping the back of Renji’s shirt.

“Aww baby,” Renji breathed, tipping his head up and kissing him again, pouring a flood of passion into it, everything his heart had built up by keeping silent. Ichigo kissed back and lifted a hand to cup the back of Renji’s head, and Renji sighed against his lips.

Sick as he was, Ichigo was very short of breath, unable to breathe through his nose easily and being forced to sniff frequently and take gasps through his mouth against Renji’s lips. Ichigo broke them apart and held a hand to his nose and sniffed hard, but Renji didn’t release him, holding him against him, unwilling to break their embrace. “Sorry,” Ichigo muttered, sniffing again, “sorry'm so gross.”

Renji brushed it off, because hell if he was going to let a bit of snot get in the way of kissing the one he loved – fuck, he’d gotten to kiss his great love, he’d resigned himself to never being able to do that, to never being able to hold him like this. “No, it’s…”

He pulled back himself then, half turned, and sneezed into his elbow, the force of it bringing tears to his eyes.

One second passed… two… ‘ _Shit.’_

“I thought you couldn’t get sick,” Ichigo teased smugly, “or are you just an idiot?!” He gave a triumphant little laugh, falling into a fit of wheezing coughs and laughter at the look on Renji’s face.

He was lucky Renji wouldn’t hit a sick man, but he still swatted him on the hair a bit. “Shut up!” he hollered, “I’m not sick.” He scowled. “Someone’s just talking about me!” he insisted.

“Like who?” Ichigo demanded flatly with a sarcastic look that quickly became more amused, his smile lighting up his face, and Renji knew he’d never love like this again.

“Everybody!”

Ichigo rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” he sighed, and walked away to the couch, settling down on it.

Renji followed to rebut that statement, falling easily into the usual swing of their arguments, but he sneezed twice more and glared as the cats came to cuddle Ichigo. “It’s your damn cats,” he blamed.

Ichigo scratched his brown cat under the chin and cooed, “Don’t listen to him, he’s just jealous,” then shot him a pointed side-eye. Renji scowled and glared at them.

“So what if I am?!”

Ichigo tried not to smile and failed badly, peeking at him over the couch. “So there’s room on this side.”

Renji pursed his lips and made a show of thinking about it, but in the end the offer was too attractive and he leapt over the couch into the space reserved for him – he’s a weak man with a heart far too strong to control.

Ichigo sneezed badly. “That better’ve missed my hair, Ichigo.”

“It did,” he said innocently, and Renji felt at his head hurriedly, relieved to find it dry. “Weren’t you making me soup? ‘M hungry now.”

“Oh right! One sec’.”

“Kay’,” Ichigo croaked, smacking his lips together and wiping his eye. Renji smiled down at him and kissed him on his pink nose. He never would've thought a guy like him would get to have something so great. Perhaps he'd been wrong all along.

Later as Renji sat on the floor watching TV, resting his head back on Ichigo’s leg while Ichigo happily ate his soup, he leaned back and called, “Hey, Ichigo.”

“What?”

“They do get together, don’t they.”

Ichigo frowned and stuck another mouthful of soup in his mouth. He stared at Renji like he was mental. “Who?”

“Never mind.” Renji grinned wildly and lay his head on Ichigo’s stomach. “Doesn’t matter.” Ichigo snorted.

“I don’t understand what goes on in that red head.”

“Well a lotta’ stuff goes _off,_ ” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

To his surprise, it didn’t send Ichigo into a fit of blushes. Instead he just calmly and unconcernedly replied, “You’re sick, Renji,” wiping the grin off his face.

“You-!” Renji sputtered, “I told you, I’m not the one who’s sick!”

“Sounds like it to me.”

“But-”

“Definitely need a few days in bed.”

“…!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys, lemme' know how I did.


End file.
